


Lollipop

by Speechless



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Louis, Car Sex, Denial, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kink shaming - kinda - but not really, Knotting, M/M, Maybe controversial, Mentions of Eating Disorder, Omega Louis, Porn actor Harry, Porn actor Louis, Psychological Trauma, References to Depression, Slut Shaming, There is a scene that is borderline non-con, Top Harry, vanilla sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speechless/pseuds/Speechless
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is an omega college student, but on porn sets he's just Lolly Pop.He thinks he's got it all figured out, until Harry Styles shows him there's more to sex than what Louis does on screen.And much more to him than he cares to admit.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Larry Stylinson
Comments: 58
Kudos: 218





	1. Walls

**Author's Note:**

> So the other day I watched this documentary on Netflix called Hot Girls Wanted.  
> And then this happened.
> 
> I really hope you like it. <3

"Have you really quit, Louis?"  
  
His mother's voice sounds feeble, tired.  
  
Or maybe Louis only hears it that way because he's the exhausted one.  
  
Maybe his ears are tired.  
  
He sighs, a tiny smile curving his lips.  
  
He moves the phone to his other ear, he needs his right hand to check on his twitter account.  
  
The cold light of his laptop screen is the only thing keeping him awake.  
  
"Yes, mum." he lies. "Why would I keep doing that to myself?"  
  
He laughs, and he doesn't know why, until he realizes he's just doing it to fight the guilt off, make himself believe it's fine.  
  
It seems to work, at least for his mother, because they move on to other things.  
  
His sisters' grades, Lottie's new boyfriend, the neighbor's dog that won't stop barking, the new mop his father ordered online.  
  
It almost feels like those things really matter, for a moment.  
  
When he hangs up, his lies immediately replace the illusion.  
  
He really wishes that his addiction to cigarettes was the worst thing his mother could worry about, when it comes to him.  
  
But he hasn't quit, he's just reassuring her.  
  
Louis still smokes, quite a lot to be honest.  
  
He's studying, that much is true, but not as much as his parents believe.  
  
He doesn't live in a shared flat.  
  
He lives by himself, because he can afford it.  
  
And he can afford it because he does porn.

It's not the way people imagine.  
  
To be fair, most people don't think about it at all.  
  
What's the point of that, anyway.  
  
If you're watching porn, you're trying to get off.  
  
Once that happens, why would you even think about how the porn industry works, unless you want to take part in it?  
  
Think about it this way: you're craving something sweet.  
  
Something cheap, that satisfies the need, but doesn't require too much effort.  
  
Something that keeps your mouth busy, but doesn't spoil your appetite.  
  
You want it to be small, but tasty, and you wanna be able to get it quickly, easily.  
  
Let's say you get a lollipop.  
  
It's sweet, isn't it?  
  
It's far from expensive, you can get it pretty much anywhere, you might even say it's fun, and that's it.  
  
When you're done, you throw away the plastic stick and you go on with your life.  
  
Why would you even think about where it was produced, who came up with the idea, the pros and cons of eating it, the impact of that amount of plastic on the environment, the risk of getting a cavity in the long run, whether it should be banned from each and every store.  
  
Why would you even think about that, unless something bad happens to you because of it?  
  
Or unless someone gives you the answers to those questions you never even asked in the first place?  
  
Louis is a lollipop.

Harry's eyes are immediately drawn to him.  
  
There's seven people in the room, and he only knows one of them.  
  
Two alphas, two betas and three omegas.  
  
But while Nick is bumping his fist, Harry's eyes have already found Louis.  
  
Then comes the scent, that unmistakable male omega scent, and if he said his body wasn't immediately affected by it, he'd be lying.  
  
Nick asks him questions, easy ones, so Harry can easily answer them while searching for Louis' voice in all the chatter. High and low notes, laughter, cussing.  
  
Nick offers him a drink, he insists when Harry refuses, he finally gives up.  
  
Harry introduces himself to everybody, carefully saving Louis for last.  
  
The omega's in his underwear, which isn't surprising, since he's about to shoot a scene.  
  
Harry keeps his eyes up, focused on Louis' face, and that seems to bother him.  
  
Louis seems distracted by it, confused, even a tad offended.  
  
"I've been planning to watch your videos." he tells Harry. "Since everybody won't stop talking about them."  
  
Harry smiles and "I hope you like them." he replies, polite, ignoring the way Nick nudges him when he sees them talking.  
  
"Are you familiar with my work?" Louis asks next, head tilted to one side, his voice softer.  
  
No, Harry says, but he's familiar with Nick's work.  
  
He doesn't like it, but he doesn't tell him that.  
  
"Are you sticking around while we shoot?" Louis asks him, half a smile curling his lips. An invitation.  
  
"Would you like me to stay?" Harry wonders, staying still when Louis' reaches out, his hand small and delicate, and fixes the collar of Harry's shirt.  
  
"Would you like me to like you to stay?" he asks this time, hushed, flirty.  
  
Harry looks back into his eyes, he smiles at Louis' wink.  
  
He waits.  
  
"You can stay." Louis decides, shrugging. 

Harry had predicted more or less everything of what he was about to witness.  
  
Then he heard them rehearse their shitty lines, he caught the shift in Louis' mood.  
  
The way he rolled his eyes when Nick "Act like you're not too sure about it." tells him. "You want to, but he needs to push you a bit."  
  
Harry considers leaving right then and there, hearing him play with the definition of consent as if it was nothing.  
  
But he waits.  
  
He keeps listening, looking almost exclusively at Louis, at the way he smiles back at the guy he's about to have sex with. It's not the same smile Harry saw five minutes ago.  
  
Then it's a quick succession of events Harry's seen a few times.  
  
A woman fixes Louis' makeup, brushes and sponges and fingers all over his face, Nick sits in his chair, the other actor works on his erection, the crew calls him a perv and tells him to keep it in his pants, laughter, an almost imperceptible tension vibrating in the air.  
  
It starts easy.  
  
Louis acts out his part, the one they want from omegas his age at least a dozen time through their career.  
  
He's on his bed, looking at his phone, minding his business.  
  
Enter the alpha.

What are you doing. Can I sit next to you? Are you talking to your boyfriend? A pretty thing like you shouldn't be left alone.

Harry knows the drill, but his heart picks up the pace, his brain whispers _danger_.  
  
He keeps looking, the palms of his hands are sweaty, he rubs them over his jeans.

Put that phone away. You know, when an alpha's talking to you, you're supposed to pay attention. I can tell you like the attention. Is that what's getting you wet, baby?

He touches him, Louis shrugs him off, but he puts the phone down.  
  
He plays his part.

My boyfriend might find out. I've only done it with him. Come on, stop that. 

Harry watches them kiss, and Louis' still relaxed, he's just playing his part.  
  
The alpha's clothes start coming off, Louis helps him undress. "Maybe a little pout." Nick shouts. "Now you're starting to like it." he decides. "Climb on top of him."  
  
Harry wants to leave.  
  
But he stays.  
  
He watches it, like he's done plenty of times.  
  
The spanking, the fake moaning, the way he pins Louis down, throws him around, calls him a slut, tells him to say he's a slut, then calls him a whore and Louis smiles up at him.  
  
"You alright?" Nick interrupts. "Lou, baby, you okay?"  
  
"It's starting to burn now." Louis winces, pushing the alpha off. "I need a sec."  
  
Harry leaves the room.

"Why did you leave?" Louis asks him when he's done, showered, back in his clothes.  
  
He's still flushed, there's a fresh bite mark on his jaw.  
  
"You didn't like it?"  
  
Harry shrugs, he smiles at him and "I'd like to take you out." he admits.  
  
Louis could tell Harry likes him, but he definitely wasn't expecting him to say that.  
  
He leans back, his stare gets suspicious, but he's smiling at him.  
  
He nods his head, slowly, he chuckles.  
  
"So you did like it."

Louis talks a lot, he gestures, he's loud.  
  
Nothing like the quiet, submissive omega millions of people look for or pornhub.  
  
He eats his sushi with his hands, he uses his chopstick t0 push the avocado out of his salmon roll, because "I find it repulsive." he explains. "I don't believe anyone actually likes it."  
  
Harry laughs.  
  
"I like it." he argues.  
  
Louis scoffs, he uses the same chopstick to sprinkle soy sauce on his sashimi.  
  
"No, you don't." he says. "Nobody does."  
  
Harry laughs again, louder, he gives him his beer when Louis reaches out to grab it.  
  
"You know," he tells him, his lips still lingering on the cold glass.  
  
Then he pauses, strategic.  
  
"What?" Harry encourages.  
  
Louis sets the bottle down.  
  
"You didn't need to do any of this." he explains.  
  
Harry frowns.  
  
"Thought you were enjoying it." he replies. "I am."  
  
Louis gives him that look again.  
  
That _what the hell are you up to?_ look.  
  
"Don't let your sushi get cold." Harry says next, hissing when Louis sticks his chopstick in his chest as a punishment.  
  
He kinda asked for it. That was a really lame joke.

He's impatient, aggressive.  
  
Harry's trying to kiss him, but Louis keeps on biting him, sucking on his lips, licking them.  
  
"Come here." Harry whispers, a hand pressed to his cheek.  
  
Louis' laughter fills the darkness surrounding them, but he slows down a bit, he pushes Harry against the door.  
  
Harry's still holding his coat in his free hand and Louis takes it from him, he tosses it on his couch.  
  
Harry tries to walk forward, properly get in Louis' house, get more comfortable, but Louis shoves him back against the door.  
  
Then he stands on his tiptoes, their mouths touch.  
  
Harry brings him closer, he presses their lips together, gently, then he does it again, more decisively.  
  
Louis lets him, he follows.  
  
Their mouths stay closed, at first, and Harry touches Louis' hair, his face, he wraps one hand around the back of his neck.  
  
Louis closes his eyes, he leans against him, both of his hands on Harry's chest now.  
  
He parts his lips.  
  
Harry gets to kiss him, tongues sliding against each other tentatively, curious.  
  
Louis smiles into it, but it takes him a minute to get bored.  
  
He withdraws, he kicks his shoes off.  
  
"Let's." he says, pulling on Harry's wrist.  
  
Harry stays still, "Wait." he stops him.  
  
Louis' mouth is slightly open, ready to answer before Harry's even said anything.  
  
"What?" he presses.  
  
Harry pulls him closer again, his hands settling on Louis' waist.  
  
"Do you want to?"  
  
Louis' eyes go wide, a confused smile twists his lips.  
  
He clears his throat.  
  
"Thought it was clear." he laughs. "I'm all over you."  
  
Harry holds him close, but he can feel him tensing up.  
  
"Yeah, but-" he says, pecking his lips again before he goes on. "Do you want to?"  
  
Louis narrows his eyes.  
  
"I invited you in, didn't I?"  
  
Harry furrows his eyebrows.  
  
"So?" he argues. "Can you just answer the question?"  
  
He makes sure his voice goes back to a calm, neutral tone, but Louis' upset and he doubts there's any chance of turning back.  
  
Harry lets go of him as soon as Louis pulls away.  
  
"What the hell's wrong with you?" the omega spits out. "You want me to beg or something? In case you haven't noticed, there's no shortage of cock in my life."  
  
Harry's jaw drops at the sudden switch.  
  
"Fuck off." is the next thing Louis tells him.  
  
Then he throws Harry's coat in his face, he pushes him out of his house, he slams the door.

Louis has spent the past forty-eight hours waiting for Harry to give him a sign.  
  
And yet, when he sees his name on the screen, he's overwhelmed with rage.  
  
"Wanker." he grits out, leaving his bedroom before curiosity gets the best of him.  
  
He watches _The heist_ on Netflix, he showers, he orders a pizza, he only eats half because he needs to watch his weight.  
  
"Dickhead." he mumbles, dragging his bare feet back into the bedroom.

_I'm sorry.  
I didn't want you to think I only asked you out to have sex with you.  
Are you still angry?  
I'm eating avocado and I can't stop thinking about you._

"Asshole." Louis laughs.  
  
He leaves him on read for a whole day, until Harry texts him again.

_Have you been to the aquarium? I'd love to go with you._

_The aquarium sucks._ Louis replies.

He lets a few hours go by, and then " _Take me to the damn aquarium._ " he accepts.

He wants to act cool, untouched, but his lips stretch into a smile as soon as Harry touches his hand.  
  
Harry waits for him to finish his cigarette, take a selfie with the river in the background, fix his hair while staring into Harry's sunglasses.  
  
Then they get in.  
  
"Are you for real?"  
  
They're barely inside, and he's already started complaining.  
  
"The fish might make up for the shitty decor." Harry points out.  
  
Louis shoots him a disbelieving look, he points to the fake sea stars glued onto the walls.  
  
"Come on!" Harry laughs, gently pushing him towards the first room.  
  
Louis' still not impressed, but he can't fight off his own curiosity. He touches the glass like a child, he giggles when the fish he's harassing swims away.  
  
Harry looks into the small tank, resting his chin on Louis' shoulder.  
  
"I don't think they can see us." he concludes.  
  
"Right." Louis agrees, disappointed. He takes Harry's hand. "Let's find the sharks." he decides.

"You don't go on dates very often, do you?"  
  
Harry gasps, two dimples in his cheeks.  
  
"What are you implying?"  
  
Louis gets closer to him, he dives his spoon into Harry's icecream. He eats all of his whipped cream and then "Everybody told me the aquarium sucks." he tells him. He goes back to his own icecream, fills his spoon with mint chocolate. "I even told you it sucks." he reminds him. "But you wanted to go anyway."  
  
Harry opens his mouth, lets Louis feed him.  
  
"Well," he says. "Nick told me you were a pain in the arse." he teases him. "But I wanted to go out with you anyway."  
  
Louis' looking down, but Harry catches his tiny smile.  
  
"Was he right?" he asks.  
  
Harry leans in, he kisses him.  
  
"Oh, yeah." he replies.

He's insecure, hiding behind false confidence.  
  
Quick, demanding, unpredictable.  
  
Harry tries to catch the rhythm, learn to go along with it.  
  
"Off." Louis pants, tearing Harry's jacket off of him. "Take it off." he urges, and he gets him out of his T-shirt, his pants, his socks, his briefs.  
  
Harry tries to undress him, but Louis slides out of his grip, pushes him away.  
  
He is naked before Harry can blink, his clothes thrown to the floor, as if they burn, as if they itch.  
  
Next "Can you tell how much I want it?" he asks, bodies pressed together, his thighs straddling him. "I want you." he says, his wetness and Harry's hardness colliding.  
  
"Slow down." Harry chuckles, but Louis resists him. He won't let Harry flip their positions. "Let me open you up a bit." Harry asks then.  
  
Louis kisses him, open mouthed and shameless, moaning.  
  
Harry's fingers are looking for him, moving slowly down his back, asking for permission.  
  
"Go on." Louis orders, lifting his hips for him, their chests pressed together.  
  
Harry holds him with one arm, close, he breathes into his neck as two of his fingers slide into him.  
  
Louis usually lets things happen, and gets paid for it.  
  
Maybe that's why he won't let them happen in his own bed.  
  
Instead, he _makes_ things happen.  
  
"One more." he whines, grinding down. "Spread me open." he begs.  
  
Harry complies, but he's still slow, gentle.  
  
Louis scratches him, he pulls his hair, he bites.  
  
"Come on." he breathes. "Fuck me."  
  
He takes his decisions while he's still one step ahead, before Harry could even try and make the rules.  
  
Harry follows, but he's careful, delicate.  
  
Louis gets off of him, he lies on his back.  
  
"Take me." he says, one leg bent, his chest heaving.  
  
Harry lies on top of him, he lets Louis hands go straight down, wrap around his cock.  
  
But Harry's still taking his time, fingers coursing through Louis' hair, his mouth drawing paths along his neck, down to his shoulder.  
  
Louis arches his back, he licks his lips, his movements stutter.  
  
"You look incredible." Harry tells him, before kissing him. "I can only imagine how good you feel."  
  
Louis' energy comes back in waves, his hips looking for the right angle.  
  
"Find out, then." he hisses, lining Harry's cock with his entrance, rushing things. "Just fuck me."  
  
Harry does.  
  
He pushes in, but not the way Louis' used to, not all at once.  
  
He gives it to him in between kisses, a couple inches at a time, and he looks at him, only moves if Louis' looking back.  
  
"As good as you thought?" Louis asks, his voice broken.  
  
"So much more." Harry replies, their mouths finding each other again when he bottoms out, Louis' thighs tensing and shaking around his waist, locking around his back.  
  
He wants more, he wants it to be faster for sure, but he doesn't complain when Harry goes slow.  
  
He seems confused by it, even annoyed, but his body likes it, his body responds perfectly.  
  
He gets slicker, he starts breathing again, in tune with Harry's thrusts, and his eyes fall shut, his touch gets lighter.  
  
Harry knows it won't last.  
  
Louis starts digging his nails into his shoulders, meeting him halfway.  
  
Harry's touching his bottom lip, his face, but Louis grabs his hand, moves it down, places it onto his neck.  
  
Harry kisses him, he starts moving it away, but Louis puts it back into place, squeezes around it.  
  
Harry doesn't, he just kisses him again, he keeps moving, but he doesn't choke him.  
  
Louis bites his lip, looking up at him, he ponders his next move.  
  
"Talk to me." he says. He bats his eyelashes, he pulls on Harry's curls. "You like fucking me?" he moans. "Am I your little slut?"  
  
Harry chuckles, nervous, his hips automatically come to a halt.  
  
Louis laughs, he blushes a bit.  
  
"Okay." he realizes. "Not into that, huh."  
  
He moves, asks Harry to keep going, and only keeps quiet for a moment, the moment it takes him to adjust again.  
  
Then he's pulling him in, his teeth digging into Harry's lips.  
  
"Am I a good omega?" he tries again.  
  
Harry stops moving again, his mind and body at war.  
  
"What?" Louis presses. "You want me to shut up? Just tell me what you want."  
  
Harry shakes his head.  
  
He just wants to make love to him.  
  
Nothing less, nothing more, nothing in between.  
  
Louis averts his gaze, his heartrate changes.  
  
"Get off me." he snaps. "This is not working."

He feels furious.  
  
He waits for his text planning a thousand different ways to shoot him down.  
  
But Harry's smart about it.  
  
Harry knows how to wait, how long it takes for Louis' anger to subside.  
  
Louis keeps fueling it, reliving that feeling of shame and rejection that's been following him around for the past three days.  
  
Then Harry texts him.

_Do you want me to leave you alone? I'd rather get kicked out a few more times, to be honest._

Louis tells himself it's the anger, pushing laughter out of him.  
  
But deep down, he knows it's something else.  
  
He doesn't reply.  
  
Harry's patience falters.

_We could be making love right now. I wish we were._

Louis laughs again, bitter, outraged.  
  
"Fuck your own fist." he hisses. He even types it, twice, before deciding he's just not gonna say that.  
  
What if it works and Harry drops it.  
  
He doesn't seem discouraged by Louis' silence, though.  
  
Because he tries once more.

_Do you wanna go see a movie?_

Louis bites on his nails, but he can't pretend he's not smiling.

_Boring._ he replies. _Yes._

"You want some popcorn?" Harry offers, discreetly getting his wallet out of his back pocket.  
  
"I'm paying this time." Louis argues, shoving Harry aside and putting both elbows on the counter.  
  
"I invited you out." Harry politely reminds him. "Let me."  
  
Louis throws him a death glare.  
  
"What are you getting?" he spells out.  
  
Harry shakes his head at him.  
  
"Fine." he says.  
  
He then proceeds to order the biggest bag of popcorn the cinema has to offer, a large drink, a huge bag of M&ms and a bag of crisps he ends up putting back onto the shelf.  
  
He can make his point without the crisps.  
  
Louis nods, his tongue stuck in his cheek.  
  
His eyes stay focused on Harry's face as his little hand travels down, dives into his pocket, until "Oh." he whispers. "Damn."  
  
Harry steps closer, he gets serious.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
Louis raises his eyebrows at him, he shrugs.  
  
"Forgot my wallet." he chirps.  
  
Harry sucks on his teeth, he tilts his head and "Well played, you little shit." he laughs.

They get shushed twice in the first five minutes, by a middle-aged man first, then by his child.  
  
Harry feeds him popcorn, almost chokes on his spit when Louis suckles on the tip of his fingers.  
  
Louis ignores him for a while.  
  
Harry brushes a finger over his hand, and Louis curls up against him, he bites softly on his shoulder.  
  
They kiss, quickly, not too often. Quietly.  
  
"You're crying." Louis whispers to him. "I saw that."  
  
"Allergies." Harry lies. "Happens all the time."  
  
Louis tilts his face up, he kisses him again.  
  
Then they stare at each other for a few seconds, and Harry swears he can hear Louis' heartbeat.  
  
"What are you gonna do when Mufasa dies?" the omega whispers. "Don't embarrass me."  
  
They get shushed a third time.

"You know this is your last chance, yeah?" Louis informs him, hooking one finger around Harry's necklace.  
  
Harry smiles, unfazed.  
  
"Don't rush me, then." he says, their lips already touching.  
  
Louis walks backwards, both hands pulling gently on Harry's wrists, he blindly guides him into the bedroom.  
  
"Don't make me wait too long." he retorts.  
  
Harry licks into his mouth, shuts him up, but he also does as he says.  
  
He takes Louis' jacket off, then his shirt.  
  
He brushes his thumb over his nipples, and they're still kissing, moving, tripping on their feet and falling onto Louis' bed.  
  
Then they're laughing into each other's mouth, and kissing again.  
  
"You smell-" Harry blurts out.  
  
Louis raises one eyebrow.  
  
"Interesting." Harry says. "I mean-"  
  
Louis' already laughing at him.  
  
"How the hell are you supposed to be a porn actor?" he mocks him, wriggling out of his jeans.  
  
"Are you talking about my slick?" he asks next, voice suddenly softer, seductive. "Smells good, yeah?"  
  
Harry licks his lips, he breathes in.  
  
"Can I eat you out?"  
  
Louis blinks, his hands coming up to rest on top of Harry's head, push him down.  
  
Harry leaves small kisses along his stomach as he gets there, he nips on his tummy and he feels Louis squirming around, breathe harder.  
  
He hears him swallow thick, as soon as his tongue finds his hole.  
  
His grips on Harry's hair loosens, his body melts into the mattress.  
  
Harry spreads his cheeks open and does it again, giving him more pressure this time, his tongue barely leaving his skin each time he licks him.  
  
Louis only manages to keep quiet for the first few minutes, giving up when Harry pushes the tip of his tongue inside of him.  
  
"Does it taste interesting, too?" he grits out, broken laughter making his stomach rise and fall quickly.  
  
Harry growls softly in response, he goes harder, one finger sliding into Louis' little hole to keep him satisfied.  
  
Louis spreads his legs even further, he moans.  
  
He holds his breath when Harry puts one more finger inside of him, he tries to keep the noises in, his bottom lip held firmly between his teeth.  
  
Harry fingers him slowly, carefully, leaves him empty to let him feel his mouth, his lips, tongue and spit. He shoves his fingers back in when Louis threatens to come, twists them around until Louis can take one more.  
  
"Enough." Louis breathes out, his voice strained. "Fuck me."  
  
Harry's cock is still trapped in his jeans, he's so hard he could come just as he is, three fingers deep inside of him and the taste of his slick in his mouth.  
  
"Harry." Louis moans this time, and it's all it takes for Harry to snap out of the haze, push himself back up.  
  
Louis' eyes are locked onto him, as Harry rips his own clothes off, but his gaze immediately drops down when Harry's cock comes into view.  
  
"Give me that." Louis mewls, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.  
  
He crawls towards him and Harry meets him at the edge of the bed, one hand holding his erection up for Louis to taste.  
  
The sound that comes out of him, when Louis sucks the tip into his mouth, has the omega whimpering in response.  
  
Louis doesn't make a show of it, too lost in the feeling to care. He just swirls his tongue over the head, takes his cock out to swallow, to hum, pleased.  
  
"I'm gonna ride you." he states, pulling Harry back onto bed.  
  
Harry has barely enough time to find a pillow and get comfortable, before Louis' climbing on top of him.  
  
Then he's losing it.  
  
Louis sinks onto him painfully slow, tight and hot and soaking wet, his hands pressed to his chest.  
  
Harry throws his head back to suck some air in, but he quickly forces himself to come back to his senses, he opens his eyes not to miss it.  
  
Pleasure seems to hit him twice as hard, when he looks at him.  
  
Louis' taking him in, his eyes glazed over, his fringe messed up and stuck to his forehead, a beautiful flush over his cheeks.  
  
His abdomen is tense, his cock full and hard against it, and his back is arched, his whole body working to get him what he wants, what he needs.  
  
"You wanna pop it?" he asks, voice thick with bliss. "Bet you got a big knot."  
  
Harry lets out a strangled moan, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Louis' thighs.  
  
"Not yet." he hisses. "Wanna feel you."  
  
Louis picks up the pace, he starts bouncing on his cock, but he stops every now and then, he circles his hips as they both catch their breath.  
  
"If you pop it in me," he says, leaning in, his mouth pressed to Harry's ear. "I'm gonna come."  
  
Harry's knot starts swelling as soon as he's done talking.  
  
"Damn you and your mouth." he laughs, both hands on Louis' bum now, grabbing as much as he can.  
  
The next moment he pops his knot, and Louis takes it so well, his inner walls contracting around it as he comes.  
  
Harry's struggling to breathe, but he's glad Louis kept his promise.

"You're falling asleep." Harry murmurs.  
  
Louis replies with a small grunt of disagreement, but he only gets more comfortable in response.  
  
Not the best position to knot, but at least Harry managed to sit up and lie against the headboard. This way he can support Louis' weight, let him rest.  
  
"I always doze off after sex." the omega mumbles into Harry's neck.  
  
"Especially if you take a knot." Harry clarifies.  
  
Louis' teeth dig into his skin before he can stop him.  
  
"You think taking one is easy?" the omega complains. "Of course it gets you tired."  
  
Harry runs his fingers up his back and Louis relaxes again, he stops biting him.  
  
"Definitely not saying it's easy." Harry corrects. "But that's not what makes you sleepy."  
  
He hears Louis snort this time.  
  
"What is it then?"  
  
Harry laughs, nervous, halfway through regretting it.  
  
"It's some stuff in alphas' semen." he admits, automatically feeling ashamed of his biology.  
  
Louis leans back, he looks at him for the first time since Harry knotted him.  
  
His eyes are half closed, glossy.  
  
"What kind of stuff?" he asks, upper lip curled in disgust already.  
  
Harry shrugs, he takes advantage of Louis' attention to press their mouths together.  
  
"Stuff." he repeats, but Louis' expression tells him it won't be enough. "Chemicals that induce sleep. Melatonin or something."  
  
Louis' gasp is silent, but definitely visible.  
  
Harry stares back at him, waiting for a question that he knows is already present in his mind.  
  
"Why the hell," Louis spits out. "Would you want to make me sleepy?"  
  
Harry chuckles.  
  
"Not me." he reminds him. "My semen, which I have no control over."  
  
Louis rolls his eyes, he nods, trying to get Harry to just answer.  
  
"I don't know." the alpha blurts out. "If omegas fall asleep they can't get up, move around. I guess it's to increase the chances of-"  
  
"Knocking me up." Louis cuts him off, equal parts outrage and amusement on his face. "As if your damn knot stuck in me wasn't enough."  
  
Harry offers him his bottom lip, one more shrug.  
  
"That's fucked up." the omega concludes. "You're sick."  
  
"Agreed." Harry replies. "But I was born that way. You can't blame me."  
  
"Gonna shower as soon as I can break free." Louis promises. "That'll show your testicles not to fuck with me."  
  
That cracks Harry up, and Louis pays the price, bouncing up and down on him until Harry manages to calm down again.  
  
When he lifts a hand up, Harry expects to be hit, maybe poked in his face, but Louis' just trying to keep him still. Kiss him.  
  
Harry lets him, eyes struggling to stay open, his tongue slipping into Louis' mouth before he can even try and stop himself.  
  
"Before you shower," he mumbles against his lips. "Do you wanna do it again?"  
  
Louis' laughter sounds like a yes.

"You're heavy." he complains, his voice sounding even thinner now.  
  
"Sorry." Harry apologizes. "We can lie on our sides." he suggests.  
  
Louis hums.  
  
"No." he says. "I kinda like it."  
  
Harry lets out a relieved breath, he leaves a small kiss to the back of Louis' neck, one more between his shoulder blades.  
  
Harry's knot hasn't even began to go down, all he can do is get comfortable and try not to squish Louis into the mattress in the process.  
  
"Relax." Louis mocks him. "Lie down."  
  
Harry almost ignores him, but the strain in his muscles convinces him otherwise.  
  
He lies on top of him, he asks if he's comfortable.  
  
Louis' no doesn't surprise him, but his laughter reassures him again.  
  
Harry can feel him get warmer with every passing minute, their skin touching in so many places he can't even count.  
  
"You know," Louis mutters into his pillow. Then he goes quiet again, as if changing his mind.  
  
Harry brushes his hair out of his face. "What?" he encourages.  
  
Louis sighs.  
  
Harry can only see half of his face, but he can tell Louis' eyes are sparkling a bit, still fighting sleep off.  
  
"I only let alphas knot me in my house." Louis finally reveals.  
  
Harry doesn't speak, gives him time to decide whether he's going to give him something more.  
  
"Makes me feel more safe." the omega adds. "A little more in control, I guess."  
  
Harry presses his lips to his shoulder.  
  
"I don't knot in my videos, either." he tells him.  
  
He can see half of the smile curling Louis' lips.  
  
"Never?" the omega asks.  
  
"Never." Harry confirms. "We fake it, sometimes."  
  
Louis laughs again, and Harry quickly lifts himself up, lets him catch his breath before lying on top of him again.  
  
"Why don't you?" Louis asks next.  
  
There's something new in his voice.  
  
Something curious, and vulnerable and sweet.  
  
Harry chooses his words.  
  
"Not willing to face the consequences." he decides.  
  
Louis doesn't say anything for a while.  
  
"Sleepy omegas?" he asks, once he's thought about it long enough. He's obviously just trying to make Harry say it.  
  
Harry smiles, he grazes his teeth over the side of Louis' neck, makes him squirm.  
  
"Intimacy." he says. "Feelings." he whispers.  
  
Louis smiles again, but he hides it into the pillow this time.


	2. Defenceless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everybody.
> 
> I've made the same mistake again, I know.  
> I really need to stop posting a WIP when I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to finish it soon.  
> Sorry for those of you who read part one and ended up forgetting what the hell happened because it took me so long to post the next part.  
> I really hope I'll be able to wrap this up before the next century.  
> Bear with me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

He had a shower in the morning, but he still feels itchy, sticky.  
  
He sinks into the tub at three in the afternoon, with a glass of wine that he barely touches for the next hour.  
  
His clothes are clean, but he tosses them in the hamper, wears something else.  
  
He studies for a couple hours, he only writes down two sentences in his notebook, before realizing he's just been wasting time.  
  
Better luck tomorrow.  
  
He puts a couple pieces of frozen garlic bread in the oven, a questionable soup in the microwave.  
  
He forgets the bread in the oven, he lets the soup go cold while blankly staring at the Tv screen.  
  
He throws everything away, he opens the window, he turns the Tv off.

_Call me when you're not busy, I guess. Just wanted to make sure you're okay._

He showers again, he changes his underwear while his phone buzzes for the twentieth time.

_Did I do something wrong?_

He chews on his lip for a while.  
  
He smokes two cigarettes in a row, he brushes his teeth.

_I miss you. I'll wait. Goodnight .x_

He goes to sleep.

"Nick, we've talked about this." Louis sighs. He's this close to hanging up.  
  
"What difference does it make, really?"  
  
"Of course." Louis laughs, bitter. "It's not you, taking it up the arse."  
  
Nick mistakes that for a joke, and his amusement makes Louis feel even worse, for a moment.  
  
"It pays double." Nick reminds him. "Think about it."  
  
Louis does, while still on the line.  
  
"Find someone else." he decides. "One alpha at a time is more than enough for me."  
  
He hangs up.

He buys peanut butter, chocolate, icecream, tortilla chips, two packs of cigarettes.  
  
He gets back into his flat, takes his shoes off.

_Still missing you._

He eats half a chocolate bar, three spoons of peanut butter.  
  
He looks in the mirror, hold his breath to suck his stomach in.  
  
He throws everything into the bin.  
  
He almost replies to Harry's text, but calls Nick back instead.

He's worked with Greg, before.  
  
He's not too bad, as long as Louis keeps him in check.  
  
The new guy, Liam, has him worrying a bit.  
  
"No hair pulling, okay?" he tells him. "I hate that."  
  
The guy smiles, embarrassed, he nods.  
  
Louis eyes him up and down, he grants him a little smile.  
  
When he punches him on his shoulder, Liam steps back, he chuckles.  
  
What's even the point.  
  
Hair pulling or not, he's still gonna get throat-fucked by both of them.  
  
At least it pays double.

He wakes up at noon, his back sore.  
  
He has a cup of tea, chews on a cough drop while reading the first few comments to his latest videos.  
  
He gained four hundred followers overnight.

_Still missing me?_ he texts.

His mother calls him while he's having dinner.  
  
She congratulates him on the brilliant results of the exam he did not take, then she asks him if he needs money.  
  
Before hanging up, she scolds him for not calling as often as she would like and makes him promise he'll try.  
  
He washes the dishes, takes his clothes off, checks his phone.

_You have no idea._

"This is what the kids are into, these days." Nick says, poking him in his tummy with the huge dildo he's holding.  
  
Louis rips it out of his hand to smack it on his head.  
  
The entire crew laughs at him, but that doesn't make him feel better.  
  
"You said it was a fake interview kind of thing." he hisses. "Blowjob and anal, you said."  
  
Nick lifts his hands up.  
  
"It is." he argues. "This," he says, picking the dildo up from the floor. "Is for a whole separate thing."  
  
"Give us a show, Lolly!" Camille shouts from where she's sitting, cross-legged on the couch. "Show him!"  
  
Louis presses his lips together, he turns his back to them.  
  
"What kind of thing?" he whispers.  
  
Nick's face brightens up.  
  
"A guy asked me to talk to you." he says. "Just a solo video. If you can fit half of it in you, he's gonna pay you three thousand quid."  
  
Louis swallows dry.  
  
Nick lifts it up again, shows it to him, touches his nose with the tip.  
  
"Take a couple days to think it over."  
  
Louis slaps it out of his hand.  
  
"Let's get to work." he hisses.

When he gets into his flat, he doesn't even switch the lights on.  
  
He falls face-first into his couch, gets tangled in his jacket.  
  
His keys drop to the floor.  
  
He just lies there for a while, could be minutes or hours, he doesn't know.  
  
He's still fully clothed when he drags himself to bed, half asleep when he hits send.

_Sunday?_

It takes Harry a minute to reply.

_Green Park?_

Louis huffs out a laugh.

_Lame._ he replies. _Can't wait._

Louis can smell him, before his eyes even see him.  
  
He's by the stairs, but nobody bumps into him while trying to go get their train.  
  
"You look good." He says.  
  
Louis doesn't say anything, but the way his eyes travel up and down Harry's body, the fact he reaches out and takes his sunglasses off to meet the green of his eyes, speaks louder than words.  
  
"You want something to drink?" Harry offers.  
  
Louis walks past him, steps on the grass, he stretches.  
  
Harry watches him walk away, clap his hands to scare the life out of a pigeon, run along the path.  
  
He catches up, and Louis lets him hold his hand.  
  
"In the sun?" The omega asks. "Or in the shadow?"  
  
Harry's thinking about kissing him.  
  
"Are you going to keep my sunglasses?"  
  
Louis tries them on in response.  
  
"In the shadow." Harry decides, watching Louis take his shoes off and sit down on the grass. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Relax."  
  
Harry coughs, and he's not even smoked yet.  
  
"You're gonna get us arrested." he whispers, looking over his shoulder halfway through his sentence.  
  
When he turns around, Louis' taking another drag, then he's blowing smoke right into his face.  
  
"It's just weed." he argues.  
  
That is not a good point, though, is it.  
  
"Yeah." Harry replies. "That's the problem."  
  
Louis takes another drag, he holds his breath for a few seconds.  
  
"Relax." he repeats. "We are not hurting anyone."  
  
Harry chews on his bottom lip, his gaze fixed to Louis' face even when he tries to stick the filter between his sealed lips.  
  
"Come on." The omega coos. "Open that pretty mouth."  
  
Harry smiles, despite the tension making his back stiff.  
  
"Fine." he grits out. "Give me that."  
  
Louis stops paying attention to him the moment Harry caves.  
  
He throws his head back instead, lets the breeze run through his hair, he sighs.  
  
When he finally decides to spare him a look, he finds a loopy smile on his face.  
  
"You finished it?!" he hisses, leaning forward to smack his hand over his chest.  
  
Harry shrugs.  
  
"Thought you wanted me to relax."  
  
Louis laughs at him.  
  
"Is this your first time?" he mocks him, pressing his foot to his stomach. It doesn't take much effort until Harry ends up on his back, a few strands of grass stuck in his hair.  
  
The loopy smile is still there.  
  
"No." Harry snorts, moving his arm so Louis can rest his head on his chest.  
  
They keep quiet for a minute, until "No what?" Louis wonders.  
  
Harry laughs.  
  
The reason why he's laughing, is still a mistery to him.  
  
"I don't know." he slurs. "I don't remember."  
  
There we go. He's laughing again, a bit louder this time, a bit more high-pitched than Louis was expecting. He's laughing _a lot_.  
  
"Oh." The omega sighs. "You're one of those."  
  
Harry furrows his eyebrows, desperately looking for words, any combination that's gonna sound like a comeback will do.  
  
But he doesn't have enough time to do that, because Louis' turning around, climbing onto his chest, his little hands stuck in his messed up hair.  
  
And he's kissing him, sweet and short, strangely innocent.  
  
"It was a bad idea." Harry mumbles.  
  
Louis nods, but he look condescending at best.  
  
"Which one?" he pouts, Harry's bottom lip suddenly stuck between two of his fingers. "Bringing weed on a date?"  
  
Yes. Harry shouldn't have done that.  
  
Or at least he should have waited until they were at Louis' place.  
  
He really hopes this date ends at Louis' place.  
  
"Asking me out again?" Louis continues, leaning in, using his teeth to torture his lip this time.  
  
Then he chuckles, he raises his eyebrows.  
  
"Getting a boner at the park?" he points out.  
  
Harry squeezes his eyes shut.  
  
"Shit." is all he can say, really.  
  
Louis nips at his jaw in response, but at least he's keeping his hands away from Harry's crotch.  
  
"Is this all it takes to get you going?" Louis teases him, his voice just a mischievous whisper. "I barely touched you."  
  
Harry's trying to get his tongue working, which is harder than it sounds, when your mouth gets painfully dry.  
  
"Well," he mumbles. "I- I guess-"  
  
"Well, huh, I guess huuuuh."  
  
Harry sits up, he smiles at Louis' little screech, at the way he clumsily rolls off of him.  
  
He needs water.  
  
He drinks half the bottle while Louis' still busy pulling his T-shirt down to cover his tummy.  
  
"I guess I like you a lot." He finally states.  
  
That's what he was going to say.  
  
He thinks.  
  
Yes.  
  
Louis' so taken aback he can't even come up with a way to mock him.  
  
"Oh." he says. "Well, that's- you're such a-" he swallows, but his mouth is dry too. So he snatches the bottle out of Harry's hand to save face.  
  
The way Harry's giggling and grinning at him lets him know he's about to get a taste of his own medicine.  
  
"Well, huuuh. That's huh- You're such huuuh."  
  
"Shut up!" Louis snarls.  
  
Harry laughs, and he's really trying not to, but he might be _one of those_.  
  
He seems to forget what the hell's going on every time he blinks, and when he ends up on the grass again, on his side, and Louis' lips are an inch from his face, he's got nothing to say about it.  
  
Okay. There is one thing, actually.  
  
"I like you a lot."  
  
Louis rolls his eyes.  
  
"Yeah." he says. "You've already said that."  
  
Harry doesn't really hear him. He's staring right at him, watching him get closer, lick his lips.  
  
He's kissing him.  
  
Before he knows it, their tongues are in each other's mouth, and Louis' soft little whimpers are definitely not helping.  
  
"You're gonna get us arrested." Harry groans.  
  
Louis pecks his lips and "You've said that, too." he reminds him.

They make it to Louis' flat an hour and a half later.  
  
It would have been twenty minutes, minus the accidents.  
  
First Louis slipped and almost fell down the stairs, one arm held firmly in Harry's grip while his face ended up smushed in a huge, hairy, _sweaty_ guy's chest.  
  
He ran back up the stairs again after that, threatening to throw up while Harry laughed his ass off and gently washed his face with the last of their water.  
  
They finally got on the train, standing up despite the empty seats, looking at each other the whole time.  
  
Louis giggled at Harry's hungry stares, pretended he didn't even exist just to start it all over again, and the train stopped twice between two stations.  
  
The second time the driver threatened to leave them there, unless people stopped leaning against the door.  
  
Harry was leaning against the door. Both times.  
  
They ended up in the middle of the carriage, Harry balancing himself on the handrail, while Louis slumped against him, laughed in his chest, laughed louder and harder each time Harry tried to shush him.  
  
Then they got off the train.  
  
They did, once they realized it was going the opposite direction.  
  
At that point Louis started complaining, desperately whining because _my feet hurt_ and _we're gonna die here_ and _I'm so fucking horny_ and _I am starving_ and _Harry that child is pointing at me, do something!_ for the entire ride.  
  
Harry let him rest his head on his shoulder, he ruffled his hair when they finally got there, until Louis blinked his eyes open and got up.  
  
Then it was all a blur.  
  
Harry's hoodie fell as he was stepping down onto the platform, Louis screamed and grabbed it, threw himself against a hopeless battle against the train doors, to the point where Harry had to wrap both arms around him and growl until he gave up.  
  
They stopped at the store to buy snacks, spent thirty-two pounds in crisps and chocolates and, finally, they made it to Louis' flat.  
  
Alive, surprisingly.

Louis' forcing a reese's cup into his mouth, stupid grin on his face, when Harry lifts him up onto the counter.  
  
Then he's swallowing chocolate and peanut butter quickly, biting on Louis' hand when it comes back for more, and he's holding him tight, kissing him.  
  
"Now," Louis says against his lips. "That was a fun date."  
  
The alpha laughs into his mouth, just for a moment, before wanting to push his tongue back into it.  
  
"Are you gonna fuck me here?" Louis mewls next, wiping his chocolate sticky hands on Harry's shirt.  
  
Harry moans in response, tired and close to his breaking point, he lets Louis bite on his bottom lip while he catches his breath.  
  
"I've been hard for hours." he groans, letting out a relieved breath when Louis' hand finds his erection, palms at it.  
  
"And I'm so wet I'm gonna kill you," Louis retorts, voice shot. "If you don't fuck me right now."  
  
Harry mouths at his jaw, his chin, head still dizzy and light, but he heard him, that much is for sure.  
  
"Never met such an aggressive omega, before." he mumbles, hands coming up to get rid of Louis' jacket.  
  
"Get used to it." Louis chirps, getting uncomfortably stuck in his own T-shirt as he tries to rip it off.  
  
Harry chuckles but he lets him struggle just for the fun of it.  
  
He lifts him up again, he takes him to the bedroom, he lays him down to finally take his clothes off.  
  
Louis suddenly stops moving.  
  
Instead, he melts into the mattress, he lets Harry undress him, his eyes warm, his skin burning hot.  
  
He watches him, bottom lip stuck in his teeth, chest heaving, as Harry takes his own clothes off, wraps a shaky hand around his cock, then steps closer, climbs onto bed.  
  
Then he moves, only then, groaning at how heavy his limbs feel while he rolls over and gets on all fours for him.  
  
Harry's hands are on his hips the next moment, pulling him down again, rolling him to his side.  
  
Harry fucks him that way.  
  
With their bodies pressed together, a possessive arm wrapped around him, a hand pressed to Louis' tummy.  
  
He fucks him slow and deep, but there's a tension in his muscles, his hips roughly snap forward every now and then, chasing the feeling.  
  
Louis can barely take care of his own breathing, so he just lets Harry take him that way, with his fingers digging into his hip, his mouth pressed to the back of his neck, his breath quick and hot against his skin.  
  
It's just them.  
  
No words and no rush. Just the sound their bodies make while they lock onto each other, their breathing, Louis' little hiss when Harry's knot starts catching on his rim.  
  
Harry's laughter, scratchy and broken, when he "I'm sorry." apologizes, for coming five minutes into it.  
  
Louis finds his hand, he arches back into him, his body open and ready.  
  
He would laugh too, but he can barely breathe, he can barely keep from crying from how good it makes him feel.  
  
It's not funny.  
  
Harry makes him feel-  
  
Different.  
  
If anything, it's scary.  
  
It's unprecedented and breathtaking and a little too much to handle.  
  
Harry makes him feel _good_.

"You're not gonna quit, are you?"  
  
Louis squints his eyes at him and Nick shakes his head in response, clearly determined to get under his skin.  
  
"Don't do that to me, Louis." he continues, shrugging when Louis hisses at him for using his real name.  
  
"I'm not quitting." the omega grits out, pointing to the frilly underwear he had to buy for the shoot. The cheap one that's making him want to peel his skin off.  
  
"As you can see." he adds.  
  
Nick shakes his head again, for longer this time, his lips pressed in a thin line.  
  
"You say that now." he argues, relentless. "But when a boyfriend comes into the picture-"  
  
"Not that it's any of your fucking business," Louis snarls, pulling on Nick's shirt until they're in a more private spot. "But Harry and I are not together. We're just messing around, okay?"  
  
Nick grins at him.  
  
"Sure." he shoots back.  
  
Then he winks, he pulls on Louis' wrist to drag him back to the centre of the room.  
  
He points to the alpha Louis' going to work with in just a few minutes. He actually points to his cock, hard and trapped into his jeans and "Have you met Luke?" he asks.  
  
Louis fucking hates him.

Louis asks him one night, when his beer bottle is empty and his inhibitions fragile.  
  
It's been three months, since their first date, and Louis' the one who carefully avoids the topic, whenever he feels Harry might bring it up.  
  
But that night, he just asks him.  
  
"Are you seeing anyone else?"  
  
Harry's biting on a slice of pizza, and his eyes go a little wide at that, his eyebrows shoot up.  
  
Then he covers his mouth, he drops the pizza down onto his plate, and Louis nervously starts bouncing his knee while he waits for Harry to just swallow and say it.  
  
"No." he finally replies. He smiles, too. "No." he repeats, softer. "Why would I?"  
  
Louis shrugs, he dips a mozzarella stick in ketchup, but ends up leaving it there.  
  
"We never talked about it." he points out.  
  
Harry sits up, he slides his elbows onto the table to prop his face up on his hands.  
  
Louis feels smaller, under his gaze.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry offers.  
  
Louis picks the mozzarella stick back up, he sniffs it, he makes a face.  
  
Then he throws it at him and "No." he laughs.

Harry's heavy on top of him, still controlled but a little greedy.  
  
"When you touch yourself," he murmurs, as his hands sneak under Louis' jumper. "Do you think about me?"  
  
Louis laughs, more flustered than amused, and he pulls on his hair to yank him closer.  
  
"What if I said no?" he challenges him.  
  
Harry's gaze slips down to his lips for a moment, but he doesn't kiss him.  
  
Instead, he hums, then looks back at him.  
  
"In that case," he says. "I would need to give you something to think about."  
  
That's a good answer.  
  
That's why Louis takes his jeans off. Because Harry really deserves to fuck him for that alone.  
  
He takes his jumper off as well, and by the time he throws it to the floor, Harry's lips are on his nipple, gentle, but good enough to make Louis squirm, make him wet.  
  
"I still haven't seen your videos." Louis informs him. "Reckon those would help?"  
  
Harry's head snaps back up, his mouth red and slick, so obscene Louis tries to push him back down.  
  
"We can watch one now." Harry suggests.  
  
Louis finally stops fighting him, at that point.  
  
He rests his hands on his shoulders, he acts unsure for a bit, until Harry traps his bottom lip between his teeth, making Louis hiss.  
  
"Fine." Louis gives up, laughing when Harry clumsily rolls off and grabs his phone from the nightstand.

Seeing him like that, all of him, has a different effect on Louis.  
  
Seeing Harry's body on a screen, big and beautiful and chiseled, makes his mouth water.  
  
That's the guy he's been fucking, and he's got him right here.  
  
"Or we could just finish what we started." he tells him, trying to turn around and kiss him.  
  
Harry doesn't let him, though.  
  
He makes sure Louis stays on his side, he taps the screen and "Twenty minutes left." he points out.  
  
Louis scoffs, keeping his eyes fixed on Harry's phone, while considering throwing it across the room to convince him.  
  
Harry's spooning him, a hand diving in Louis' hair, when "Twenty minutes to get you so wet you could cry." he whispers.  
  
Then his hand starts travelling down his neck, his back, and Louis immediately knows he's not kidding.  
  
His body certainly takes him seriously, muscles tensing with arousal.  
  
"Fine." he hisses.  
  
When Harry's finger finally starts circling his opening, the video has just started getting interesting.  
  
Harry's kissing the girl, a pretty blonde omega Louis' never seen before.  
  
He's kissing her in a way that has him biting the inside of his cheeks.  
  
Bothered.  
  
It's nothing like the porn Louis makes.  
  
He's never seen anything like it.  
  
Harry and Taylor - if that is even her real name - kiss.  
  
Not open-mouthed and obscene. They really kiss.  
  
They look at each other, they even smile.  
  
They get heated slowly, they take their clothes off when they remember to.  
  
Because they aren't in a rush, they are lost in each other's mouth, exploring with their hands while keeping their eyes shut.  
  
It's not what he gets, when he's shooting a scene.  
  
A tongue forcing its way down his throat, teeth digging harshly in his bottom lip, spit all over his mouth.  
  
Harry holds her, pressed to himself, his erection almost forgotten against her pale thigh.  
  
And it's really him, on that screen. No rush and no pressure.  
  
He takes his time, lips brushing softly, tongues twisting slowly, languidly.  
  
Far from the rough treatment Louis gets at work.  
  
Harry's pressing his mouth to his shoulder as Louis keeps watching, mouthing at his sensitive skin, but the omega can barely notice his touch, too lost in what's happening next.  
  
Taylor is lying down on a bed.  
  
An actual bed, not a mattress thrown in the middle of a tiny studio.  
  
Not a desk that has seen hundreds of school girl fantasy type of shit.  
  
A bed, in a bedroom that looks so believable Louis almost feels like asking Harry for an explanation.  
  
"It looks so real." he mumbles, just as Harry finally pushes a finger inside of him. "So nice." he adds, not sure what he's referring to this time.  
  
Taylor lies down and Harry is gentle, when he spreads her legs apart.  
  
He settles between her thighs, where her flesh looks soft and delicate, and Louis can tell by the face she makes.  
  
That must be the same one he gets whenever Harry eats him out, always a little shocked by how good it feels when it's only just started.  
  
He can tell he's not doing it for the show.  
  
He's making her feel good.  
  
"You're very good at that." he says then, and the next moment Harry's rolling him onto his tummy.  
  
"I love it." Harry informs him. "That's my secret."  
  
Louis misses the next few minutes of the video, because his eyes fall shut, his body melts into the mattress, pleasure taking over his senses way sooner than he was expecting.  
  
He manages to open his eyes when Taylor moans in a way that awakens his curiosity.  
  
Harry leans back and works on opening him up for a bit longer, two fingers replacing his tongue to keep Louis from complaining, but lucid enough to keep watching.  
  
"Missionary, I bet." he mutters, when Harry moves up and shares her taste with her in a gentle kiss.  
  
"It's in the tags." Harry shoots back. "Cheater."  
  
Louis hasn't seen the tags.  
  
He just can tell when Harry's done with foreplay.  
  
The look in his eyes, when Taylor breaks their kiss, is the same he's seen more than a few times.  
  
"No blowjob?" he laughs, almost mocking them, or maybe looking for ways to let some of his frustration out.  
  
He rarely gets eaten out, on set.  
  
And if he does, it's usually more aesthetically pleasing than pleasurable, his cheeks spread open and the tip of an alpha's tongue barely reaching his hole.  
  
And he always has to sink to his knees, no matter the tags, he can never skip that part.  
  
Now that he thinks about it, he rarely skips it with Harry.  
  
"She could have sucked your cock." he mutters, his voice uneven as Harry stretches him out. "It's common courtesy."  
  
Harry chuckles, slowing his movements, almost as if wanting to soothe him.  
  
He can tell Louis is getting impatient, sick of being wet and empty, and something else he still can't put his finger on.  
  
Then Louis "This is vanilla as fuck." comments, and Harry starts to understand.  
  
"Nothing wrong with that." he reminds him, teasing Louis' opening with the tip of his cock.  
  
That has him tensing up, expectant, but Harry doesn't thrust in.  
  
He hears Louis' frustrated laughter, sees his attempt to push back against him, but he makes him wait.  
  
Just a bit longer, just until he catches him looking back at the screen.  
  
He sees his expression, the way his lips have parted in anticipation.  
  
"She's getting it." Louis complains, tearing an amused laugh out of him.  
  
That was actually what Harry was waiting for.  
  
That's when he penetrates him, and Taylor's moaning, breathing fast, but Louis watches them and keeps the sounds in.  
  
His eyes squeeze closed while Harry fills him up, but he stays quiet, a fist pressed to his mouth to keep it shut.  
  
So Harry "Do you like it?" wonders, sliding slowly in and out of him.  
  
Louis nods, his eyes still fixed on the screen, body burning hot under Harry's weight.  
  
"The video, too?" Harry asks this time, picking up the pace when Louis pushes himself to his knees.  
  
"A little boring." the omega replies.  
  
Harry rests his hands on his hips, he squeezes lightly on the warm flesh.  
  
"Stop watching it, then."  
  
Louis doesn't answer, not at first, gaze stuck to Harry's phone.  
  
Harry manages to get the first sound out of him with a sharp thrust, and that seems to bring him back to reality.  
  
He spreads his legs, the phone still held tightly in his hand, and "I wanna see how it ends." he admits.

He's starting to wonder how long it's gonna last.  
  
When he started, it was easy.  
  
Low requirements and decent rewards.  
  
He'd shoot a fifteen minute blowjob scene and get five hundred pounds for it, even eight hundred with a little dialogue and rough play.  
  
He'd get lots of offers and he could choose what to do, relatively easy money and the feeling he had it all figured out, completely in his control, an endless list of possibilities to consider and explore.  
  
That went on for the first few months.  
  
He started to get a solid fanbase, if that's what you can call a bunch of people getting off on the sole idea of fucking your holes.  
  
Not that he cared, as long as it made him a little richer.  
  
What he didn't know, is that there's only so much you can do, before your viewers get bored.  
  
You need to give them something more, something different, tickle a new side of their sexuality, while widening your own.  
  
You kinda have to.  
  
Sure, you can refuse to do whatever feels like a violation of your boundaries, wait for the next offer.  
  
But at some point, you'll have to blur the lines at least a bit, go past what you initially thought would be your limits.  
  
And it's not like it makes that much of a difference, right?  
  
If you're willing to take it up the arse for a thousand, you might as well suck on one more cock while doing that, for three hundred more. What the hell, might even let them tie your hands and spank your ass until it bruises, and make it an even fifteen hundred.  
  
So you do just that, and you don't think too much of it.  
  
The views and the phone calls and the money keep coming, and your job stays pretty much the same, you could argue.  
  
But see, the problem is, that too gets really old really fast.  
  
They've seen you do that a couple times already, so now you gotta give them something more, something different, redefining your limits one more time, just for a while, until it's just not enough all over again.  
  
"Omega on omega pays less, you know that." Nick dismisses him, his tone almost annoyed.  
  
"Why the fuck should I be okay with that?" Louis snaps, unable to stop pacing through his living room, hand shaking around his phone.  
  
Nick can piss him off like very few people have managed to do in his life.  
  
"It's less work, Louis, come on." He laughs. "We both know that."  
  
Louis' biting on his nails, to keep his mouth shut, more than anything.  
  
Nick stays quiet, his breathing patient and stable while Louis ponders what to say.  
  
"I disagree with that." he finally grits out. "I'd still be fucking someone, wouldn't I?"  
  
Nick laughs again, light and unaffected.  
  
"If that's the case, why are you okay with getting paid more than the alphas?"  
  
Shit.  
  
Louis hates him, he fucking hates him.  
  
"Then explain this, you asshole." he hisses, bringing the phone closer to his mouth. "Why am I the only one getting fucked, if there's two omegas? You could at least make it even, especially 'cause the actor is a damn beast."  
  
Nick lets out an exasperated sigh in response, he clicks his tongue, and Louis' cuticles are bleeding by now.  
  
"Louis, baby." he tells him. "You're the male omega. That's what sells."  
  
Louis stares at his fingers, skin broken and sore, and he suddenly can't understand what the hell he's fighting about.  
  
He's getting more money than the girl, he's basically the protagonist of the movie, he's the one who gets those views up.  
  
What's he fighting him for?  
  
"Are you in or not?"  
  
Maybe Nick's the sane one, in this fucked up equation.  
  
Maybe Louis' just getting a little stuck in his own head.  
  
"Yeah." he replies. "I'm in."

When Harry calls him for the third time, he's still sleeping, face buried between the couch cushions.  
  
He finally wakes up, he curses when he sees the time and realizes Harry must have been waiting for him for the past twenty minutes.  
  
Louis doesn't answer the phone, he gets up and opens the door instead.  
  
And he was right.  
  
Harry's still pressing his phone to his ear, when he lets out a relieved sigh and "Fuck's sake, Lou." tells him. "Got me worried."  
  
Louis rubs his face in response, he leaves the door open and turns his back on him, stomach grumbling as he makes his way to the kitchen.  
  
He stands in front of the fridge for a solid minute, and he can feel Harry's eyes on him the whole time.  
  
He stares a bit longer, but how's he supposed to eat something, when all he has in there are a bottle of ketchup, an old egg and a tomato that started to grow fur?  
  
Fuck it, he's not that hungry anyway.  
  
"You wanna go out?" Harry asks him, when Louis finally gives up and puts the kettle on.  
  
He feels sore and drained, just the idea of leaving the house has him groaning.  
  
"Wanna order something to eat and watch a movie?" Harry tries then, finally getting closer to press a little kiss to the top of his head.  
  
Louis barely registers that, eyes stuck on the stove.  
  
He shrugs, trying to get his voice out.  
  
That feels like a lot of work, right now.  
  
" 'm really tired." he mumbles, leaning against the sink to hold himself up.  
  
Harry stays close, tense, and Louis' not sure whether he wants to be held or left alone.  
  
Can he have both?  
  
"Are you okay?" Harry asks, his tone heavy with suspicion. "Did something happen at work?"  
  
If Harry could just hold him, and soothe him, and shut his mouth, Louis thinks he might feel better.  
  
"Louis, look at me."  
  
But that's not happening, because Harry never fucking gets that.  
  
Louis does look at him, his gaze cold and irritated.  
  
"Told you I'm tired." he tells him.  
  
So tired he's sick of waiting for the water to boil, so he just gives up on the damn tea, as well.  
  
He's making his way to the bedroom, when Harry grips his arm and makes him turn around.  
  
"What are you doing?" the alpha asks him, eyebrows furrowing. "You're just gonna act like I'm not here?"  
  
Louis looks at his hand, at the way his fingers wrap firmly around his arm, hurting him a bit because he's fucking sore, his whole body hurting in one way or another, and that kind of contact is enough to make his chest tighten.  
  
He looks at Harry's hand, jaw clenched, then up at his face, eyes cold and threatening.  
  
Harry immediately lets go of him, his expression almost betrayed.  
  
"I am tired." Louis spells out. "Which part of that don't you understand?"  
  
Harry blinks, seemingly confused by Louis' demeanor, but his expression softens a bit.  
  
"No, I get it." he says. "Just-"  
  
Louis waits for him to finish, eyes rolling when it takes Harry more than ten seconds to fucking speak.  
  
He feels like he's doing it on purpose.  
  
"Do you want me to leave?" Harry finally asks, shrugging, moving a step closer to him, just to decide he's not gonna touch him, in the end. "I'm gonna stay, if you're okay with that."  
  
Louis nods, and the next moment he's leaving again, getting tangled in his own clothes in the attempt to get them off, leaving them in the hallway and on the bedroom floor, limbs aching and impossibly heavy when he drags himself into bed.  
  
Harry takes his shoes off and lies down beside him, letting a couple minutes go by before making up his mind and spooning him.  
  
His breathing feels fast and agitated against Louis' skin, like he's got a million words stuck in his throat, choking him.  
  
"What happened, Lou?" he asks him, his voice just a whisper.  
  
Louis could tell him he's fine.  
  
He could tell him he just needs to sleep.  
  
He could even turn around and hug him back, reassure him with his body, if not with his words.  
  
But he does none of that.  
  
He's tired, he's so tired.  
  
So he just falls asleep.

They have breakfast at noon, Harry still in the same clothes, and Louis sits in his lap when he realizes Harry's keeping his distance.  
  
They feed each other, they kiss, they take their sweet time waking up properly.  
  
Louis wonders how Harry managed to make it to Starbucks and back, with how sleepy he looks, and he pulls on his wrist until Harry takes the hint and follows him into the shower.  
  
They wash each other and they kiss some more, they touch, Harry wraps both of them into a towel, kissing his neck when Louis leans against him.  
  
They move into the living room and they barely talk.  
  
Something about Louis' next exam and what to get for dinner, while snacking on leftovers.  
  
They watch friends on Netflix, they smoke weed, they have sex for a couple hours, slow and lazy, Louis on top of him the whole time.  
  
Harry's knot is stuck inside of him, when Louis finally seems to snap out of the haze.  
  
"I get really grumpy when I'm tired." he explains, brushing Harry's damp hair out of his face. "Don't be mad at me."  
  
And it's like he's woken up into a different body, one that doesn't tense up and withdraw when Harry touches it.  
  
It's like a different person, one that doesn't hate him just for being there.  
  
And Harry doesn't know how to handle that.  
  
He knows why it happens, but that's not enough to fix it.  
  
"I'm not mad, baby." he replies, just before kissing his lips. "I just want you to be okay."  
  
It's like two people, opposite and distinct, he needs to learn to deal with.  
  
One of them despises him for caring about him, he wants him to stay away, stay out of it, his mind, his heart, his life.  
  
He can barely stand him, wants him to be quiet and let him do his thing, no questions, no concerns, no right to know what's bothering him.  
  
He doesn't like to talk and he doesn't like to eat, he's all glares and snorts, dragging himself from the couch to the bed until the day is over.  
  
He hates himself and doesn't want anyone to convince him to stop.  
  
"Don't let me push you away." Louis says, low enough Harry might think he's made it up, face hidden in the crook of his neck because looking into his eyes while saying it would be too much.  
  
That's the Louis that wants him close.  
  
He loves having him around, he blows into his mouth when Harry's kissing him and bursts out laughing each time, he holds tight onto him when they make love at night, when everything's gone quiet and just the two of them remain.  
  
He teases him and he tilts his head when Harry says something he wasn't expecting, he smiles when Harry tells him about something that happened in high school, he pokes him in his stomach to make him jump and squirm, and he's sweet and warm and soft and beautiful.  
  
He's feisty and stubborn, but he loves it when Harry won't let him win, and he's strong and takes shit from no one, but he needs Harry to hold him at the end of the day.  
  
"How about you let me in, instead?" Harry murmurs, lips pressed to Louis' temple.  
  
Louis breathes out, heavy with those feelings he just won't share.  
  
"More than this?" he chuckles, wiggling in his lap.  
  
They overlap, sometimes.  
  
So Louis wants him close and far away from him, wants Harry to pry his way into his life and stay the hell out of it.  
  
Wants him to tell him the truth and pretend he believes his lies.

"My mom wants to meet you." Harry tells him one night, because Louis seems more open than usual, even if his guard is never fully down.  
  
He raises one eyebrow, but he doesn't move, legs still spread open to let Harry press himself against him.  
  
"You wanna talk about your mom right before you fuck me?" he teases him, baring his neck when Harry starts kissing him there.  
  
"I'm not _that_ kinky." he continues, laughing by himself.  
  
"I've been talking about you for the past six months." Harry ignores him, gently pushing his hands off, when Louis tries to unzip his pants. "She's gonna think I made you up if I don't bring you over."  
  
Louis shrugs, he takes his own clothes off if Harry won't let him undress him.  
  
"Maybe you did." he chirps. "Ever thought about that?"  
  
"Lou." Harry scolds him, biting softly on his lips. "I'm serious."  
  
Louis' still laughing a little, more nervous and less pleased now, but he's keeping up his walls, careful.  
  
"Not yet." he tells him. "Not even sure I like you that much." he says, contradicting himself with his hands, with the way he tucks Harry's hair behind his ear, strokes his cheek.  
  
_I don't really mean this_ , he's telling him. _But let go now_.  
  
"I like you so much." Harry replies, so calm and so open Louis drops his smile. "You know that, yeah?"  
  
Louis stares up at him, his lips pressed together to keep quiet, but his pupils are dilating, reacting to something he loves to hear.  
  
He nods, and he leans in, looking for a kiss.  
  
He's looking for reassurance, his mouth warm and hungry, begging for Harry's taste.  
  
He's also trying to keep his mouth busy, before he goes any further, tells him something he might not want to hear or believe.  
  
Harry's choking on it, bursting with it, pushing it down a bit harder every day, and it won't be long before it comes out.  
  
"I'm crazy about you." he says, finally getting rid of his clothes.  
  
He settles for less, just for a bit longer, until Louis lets him say it.  
  
"I want you so much." he tells him, and it comes close, but it's not truly how he feels.  
  
Louis kisses him more, harder and hungrier, so good he shuts him up, he reminds him of what they're doing, and Harry's fingers slide inside of him.  
  
"Fuck me." Louis urges, biting on his lips. "Fuck me hard." he asks, his body opening up for him. "Mount me and knot me." he hisses, almost angry, almost desperate.  
  
He pushes him away and he rolls over, back arched and ass up for him.  
  
Maybe this way, Harry won't be tempted to say it, right?  
  
If he doesn't see his face, maybe they'll be fucking and not making love.  
  
Harry pushes inside of him, he grips his hips, he fills him up.  
  
"Fuck me, Harry." Louis hisses.  
  
Harry knows him.  
  
Knows both the sides, better than Louis thinks.  
  
_Don't let me push you away_ , is what he's really telling him.  
  
And Harry won't.

It finally happens one day.  
  
It's not really the first time, but Louis managed to nip it in the bud every time Harry even tried to bring it up.  
  
If he even thinks about mentioning it, Louis immediately makes it clear.  
  
His job is not up for discussion.  
  
He won't let Harry have any opinion on that, no matter how reasonable.  
  
Not when he disappears for two days because he's recovering from the last BDSM scene he shot, not when Harry sees how bruised his inner thighs are, not when he hears him shouting on the phone with Nick.  
  
But it was just a matter of time.  
  
Louis doesn't usually tell him what kind of offers he accepts and he never invites him on set, not since he's realized Harry's idea of sex is nothing like the way Louis gets fucked for a living.  
  
He doesn't tell him because it's none of his business anyway, he doesn't care what Harry thinks because it's up to him, he's the one who knows what's okay and what's not.  
  
Harry wouldn't get it.  
  
He's free to watch his videos if he wants to know, but Louis doesn't owe him an explanation.  
  
Until he feels like he does.  
  
He tiptoes around it, starting to say it just to change his mind and drop it, again and again, for an entire day.  
  
Until Harry gets tired of waiting.  
  
He finishes washing the dishes and he gently takes Louis' phone out of his hands, pulling him closer, kissing him.  
  
Then he grabs his chin, looks him dead in the eye.  
  
"What is it?" he asks him.  
  
Louis bites on his bottom lip, considers ending it before it starts, like he always does.  
  
But he can't, he just can't this time.  
  
Harry keeps him close, his hands gentle and reassuring, running up and down his back, through his hair, and he looks so ready, always ready for him.  
  
And Louis knows this is going to turn into a fight, he just knows it.  
  
He enjoys it while it lasts, the feeling of safety and warmth he gets when Harry looks at him this way, like there's nothing he can't take.  
  
"Nick offered me five thousand quid." he blurts out, stopping immediately.  
  
He stops because Harry's expression has already shifted.  
  
He tensed up, jaw clicking and eyes darkening.  
  
Harry knows the industry, knows lots of people who work in it. He knows that the only way you're gonna get all that money is if you do something so fucked up that not many others are willing to do it.  
  
"What for?" he asks, anxious.  
  
Louis has to push it away, the instinct to squirm out of his grip and cut it off, remind him he's not part of this, he doesn't get a say in any of it.  
  
But there's a reason he feels compelled to tell him, after all.  
  
"Something-" he says, trying to soften the blow with a fake smile. "Rare, I guess."  
  
Harry's not buying it, any of it.  
  
Not Louis' smile, not the kiss he presses to his cheek, not the little uncaring shrug he gives him.  
  
"What is it?" he asks once more, his voice firm and low. Worried.  
  
Louis shrugs again, he lets out a throaty laughter, but it sounds far from convincing, even to himself.  
  
"No big deal." he says. "He just-" he finds himself stuck again, his feelings swirling furiously in the pit of his stomach.  
  
He's regretting it now.  
  
He shouldn't have started this.  
  
"He wants to shoot while I'm in heat." he finally says, making sure his voice stays even.  
  
He looks right into Harry's eyes, hoping it'll be enough to make him back off and just go with it.  
  
But who the fuck is he kidding.  
  
Harry's breathing is getting fast and heavy, and he breaks contact right then and there, letting go of him and stepping back.  
  
He leans against the wall, arms crossing over his chest.  
  
"Are you gonna do it?" he asks him, his eyes filling with rage and hurt.  
  
Louis can only stand there and look at him at first, because he's never seen this before.  
  
Harry's never looked at him this way before.  
  
And he doesn't know what to do.  
  
"Maybe." he says.  
  
Harry inhales sharply, he closes his eyes for a moment.  
  
Then he looks back at him, and Louis knows exactly what he's feeling.  
  
It's the same thing he felt when Nick first told him.  
  
"How's it different, anyway?" he tries, but it's useless, he knows it, he can barely believe it himself.  
  
Harry laughs, eyes up to the ceiling, and Louis stops breathing when he sees the tears glinting in them.  
  
He looks down, mortified and angry, but Harry's finally ready to let him know what he thinks, he can't ignore him any longer.  
  
"Please tell me you don't really mean that."  
  
Louis doesn't answer, because he knows that's just the beginning.  
  
Harry's gonna have a lot to say.  
  
Louis shouldn't have let him. He should have kept him out of it, like he always did.  
  
He had it coming.  
  
"You're gonna be on a fucking porn set, Louis." Harry tells him, his voice breaking. "With plenty of people around, and you're gonna be out of your mind, and they're gonna take advantage of that."  
  
Louis can't look up at him, he can't deal with this, because Harry sounds on the verge of a panic attack, and he's so angry, so disappointed, so hurt.  
  
He feels so stupid.  
  
He should have kept quiet.  
  
"Nobody's gonna take care of you, Louis." Harry continues, and Louis can hear how hard he's trying not to yell. "You think they're gonna give a fuck about you? When you're tired and in pain and you need to rest and be held, do you think they're gonna stop? And when you take a knot and you feel vulnerable, how's it gonna feel to have a fucking crowd around you?"  
  
"Stop freaking out." Louis snarls. "I have thought about these things."  
  
"Have you?" Harry shouts.  
  
He shouts, this time.  
  
Louis startles, and glances up at him.  
  
He's still a few feet away, and Louis wasn't wrong.  
  
His eyes are filled with tears.  
  
"And if the alpha gets annoyed and snaps, what the fuck are you gonna do?" Harry keeps asking, crushing him with all the things Louis needs to ignore, cruel and relentless. "What's it gonna feel like when a complete stranger loses his temper and there's nowhere you can go?"  
  
"Why the fuck would that even happen?" Louis retorts, yelling even louder. "You're blowing this out of proportion, fucking stop!"  
  
"He's gonna have his knot in you." Harry insists. "He's not gonna like it when someone gets close to you. And he's gonna lose his shit and you're gonna be terrified."  
  
Louis' heart jumps up his throat, but he can't show that, can't acknowledge the fear crawling up his neck.  
  
Harry's just trying to scare him.  
  
"You're overreacting." he simply tells him, turning his back on him to retrieve his phone from the table.  
  
His fingers are shaking over the screen, he can barely breathe, and he hopes Harry's just gonna leave, he's gonna get the fuck out of here and leave him alone, let him think this through by himself.  
  
He pretends to scroll through Twitter for a while, but he can't calm down, no matter how much he tries, he can't stop shaking.  
  
Harry moves behind him, but Louis ignores him, eyes fixed on his phone.  
  
Harry gets closer, until he's grabbing his shoulders, fighting him to get him to turn around.  
  
Louis tries to push him off, he tries to get out of it, but it's too late.  
  
Harry grabs his face and their eyes meet.  
  
They're both trying not to cry, furious and breathless.  
  
"What if he hurts you?" Harry asks him. "What if you want to stop and they can't get him off you?" he asks, and Louis has to control himself even harder now. He doesn't want to cry over this.  
  
"What if he bonds you?" Harry asks, looking right at him, right into his eyes.  
  
This is exactly why he's never involved him.  
  
He knew this would happen, and they've only managed to make it this far because Louis never let him meddle with his life.  
  
He should have kept his fucking mouth shut.  
  
And now he's scared and he's ashamed, he feels stupid for even thinking he could go through with it, and he's crying and he feels even more pathetic.  
  
He didn't need any of this.  
  
He didn't need to realize Harry's fucking right.  
  
He didn't need to realize he's fucked up in the head, if it took _this_ to make him think.  
  
There's something wrong with him and he just felt better, before Harry made it so clear.

He spends the following day in his bed.  
  
Mostly crying.  
  
He manages to calm down every once in a while, eyes so red and swollen he pities himself when he looks in the mirror.  
  
Harry keeps on calling him, and Louis lets his phone ring, forgotten on the floor.  
  
By the time he manages to get up, his pillow and sheets are soaked with his tears and he feels disgusting, damp and itchy all over.  
  
He keeps sobbing pathetically while dragging himself around the house, a cigarette stuck between his lips as he fills up the tub, gets out of his clothes and sinks into the water.  
  
It's hot to the point of being almost unbearable, but he doesn't care.  
  
He hasn't eaten in almost two days, and he doesn't care.  
  
His heat is about to start, he can tell by the cramps stabbing his lower abdomen, the tension in his legs.  
  
He feels lonely.  
  
He smokes in the bathtub while his skin becomes red and sensitive, ash and tears poisoning the water.  
  
He's mad at himself for falling into it.  
  
What was he thinking?  
  
Harry was just waiting all along for an excuse to lash out.  
  
He could tell, even months ago.  
  
He's never been okay with this, and he never will be.  
  
And Louis can't let him do this to him.  
  
He can't betray himself this way, letting an alpha make him feel wrong, and stupid and disgusting.  
  
He hates himself for giving Harry the power to do it.  
  
And he hates Harry even more, for making him feel so ashamed of himself.  
  
He made him trust him, first.  
  
He made him believe he could really take him as he was.  
  
But he was wrong.

He misses him.  
  
He wishes he was here.  
  
He's scared of losing him.  
  
Scared of losing himself for him.  
  
He's scared of being blinded by his feelings.  
  
What happens if he can't tell when Harry's right and when he's just trying to make him feel wrong?  
  
What happens if he lets him win this once, what's gonna happen the next time he disagrees with him?  
  
What's gonna happen if he just does as he pleases and Harry leaves him?  
  
He misses him so much.  
  
He stares at his phone for hours on end, gripping it tightly and taking it with him every time he leaves the bedroom.  
  
Harry's calls have started to decrease, and he's dreading the moment they're just going to stop coming.  
  
And he can't bring himself to answer, to look for him, to beg him to come over and tell him everything's gonna be okay.  
  
What happens if he lets Harry see his weakness?  
  
If he starts needing him?  
  
What happens then?  
  
He stares at his phone and he bursts out crying when it finally rings, heart thumping desperately in his chest as he can do nothing but stare and wait, until everything goes quiet again.  
  
He thinks about the first time he let Harry knot him.  
  
He ignored him for days after that, he forced himself to stop missing him, and only then he allowed himself to see him again.  
  
He managed to do that for the first few weeks, letting him close to him, inside of him, so deep within he felt terrified.  
  
So he ditched him again, and again, over and over, until the craving subsided and he felt back in control.  
  
Truth is, Louis fucking knew it.  
  
He knew it since the very first time.  
  
Harry was too stubborn and too into him, and Louis could feel it in his bones, that they would get too close too fast.  
  
And their spark quickly turned into a fire.  
  
And it destroyed him.

The phone stopped ringing.  
  
Harry's last call was nine hours ago, at four in the morning.  
  
Louis hasn't stopped crying.  
  
At first it was hurt and anger, over their fight, over how cruel Harry was to him, just plain insensitive and arrogant.  
  
Then it was frustration, because he was tired and sleep deprived.  
  
It became hormonal, the pain in his abdomen getting worse, skin warming up and stinging as his heat got closer.  
  
He began crying over how alone he is, how stupid he was to even think Harry would stick around for who knows how much longer.  
  
That maybe they would last.  
  
And he cried and cried, he found so many reasons to cry that he gave up on trying to stop.  
  
He's crying now, because his phone stopped ringing and he's still staring at it, alone and exhausted in his bed.  
  
He's crying because he's been lying to himself for the past two days.  
  
It's not Harry's fault.  
  
It's not about control or jealousy.  
  
It's about him.  
  
That self-destructive quality that makes him who he is.  
  
That inability to think clearly, use his fucking head, be an adult and take care of himself, before involving anyone else in his fucked up life.  
  
That's where it went wrong.  
  
Right at the start.

His heat starts coming in the afternoon, waves of suffocating warmth washing over him, making him scratch at his skin to try and find some relief.  
  
He insults himself for an hour, before feeling guilty enough to get out of bed and get ready for it.  
  
He showers, letting cold water run over his body until he can breathe again.  
  
He orders a burger and asks the delivery guy to just leave it by the door, before retrieving it and eating it over the sink, rushed and starved.  
  
He drinks two glasses of water, he stretches his aching limbs, he walks back and forth through the house to soothe the pain in his muscles.  
  
It's gotten dark outside, when he gets back into bed.  
  
When he decides he's doing the right thing, letting go of it.  
  
Before it gets worse.  
  
Before they really hurt each other.  
  
It's four a.m. again, when he picks up the phone.  
  
Harry answers immediately, and they only breathe for a while, they don't say anything.  
  
Until Harry hears him cry.  
  
"I'm coming over, baby." he whispers. "I'll be right there."

They don't waste time apologizing or standing their ground.  
  
It doesn't matter, not right now.  
  
Maybe not ever.  
  
Louis lets him into the house and Harry slams the door closed, he picks him up and he holds him tight, close, and Louis finally stops crying. Immediately. He just stops.  
  
His legs are wrapped tightly around him, his arms around his neck, and then their mouths are connecting, and there's really nothing left on Louis' mind.  
  
Just their lips, tongues, breaths, moans.  
  
They kiss, hearts thumping, bodies grinding against each other, and Harry starts walking, but they can't stop kissing, even if it means bumping against every piece of furniture that gets in their way.  
  
Louis doesn't know, he doesn't care.  
  
One second they're in the living room and Louis' kissing him, diving both hands into his hair and pulling him close, eating him up, begging him, and when he stops to catch his breath they are in the hallway.  
  
Harry's holding him up against the wall, pressing his erection between his thighs.  
  
Louis gets him out of his jacket, he pulls on his shirt until he manages to get it off, feel Harry's skin against his own.  
  
He scratches on his back, he digs his nails into it, making him growl and lick roughly into his mouth.  
  
He tries to catch his breath again, and they're in the bedroom, Harry's yanking his underwear off and throwing him onto his bed, he's taking the rest of his clothes off, and he's climbing on top of him, spreading his legs, "I'm here." he's telling him.  
  
He's there, and he's on him, inside of him, and Louis can finally breathe, he has no reason to cry.  
  
Harry fucks him hard and desperate, and Louis can feel his own slick dripping down the back of his thighs, making it smoother, easier for them to get lost into each other.  
  
He fucks him like he's angry, like he's sorry, like it doesn't matter anymore and it never really did.

Harry takes care of him during his heat, like he's already done once before.  
  
He puts him and all fours to fuck him deep and painfully good, he just gives him his knot when Louis starts feeling empty.  
  
He doesn't make him talk, because he knows Louis just needs him close.  
  
He lets him rest for a while and he fucks him again, on his back the second time, because Louis' calmer and he's not in a rush to get knotted.  
  
Then he holds him, he lets him sleep.  
  
He feeds him and he holds him up against himself while they shower, because Louis' tired and he can't wait to get back into bed.  
  
Harry takes care of him in a way that has Louis forgetting there was a time he used to do this alone.  
  
Not long ago, not really, but it feels so far away.  
  
The second day of his heat is always the worst one.  
  
He gets restless and whiny, he snaps at him when Harry takes too long to pop his knot, and he kicks him away when his skin starts burning too much for contact.  
  
He falls in and out of sleep, but Harry's always there when he opens his eyes, brushing his hair back, kissing his forehead or running his fingers over his skin.  
  
He fucks him when Louis starts squirming around, and he lets him bite and snarl when he wants to clean him up, refusing to let him sleep with his cum dripping out of him.  
  
"I need it inside of me." Louis tells him at some point, while his knot is still stuck in him. "You can't just wipe it off."  
  
Harry can't help but laugh, because he knows Louis' going to crack up when Harry reminds him of this twisted logic, in a couple days.  
  
But he's not making much sense right now, he can't, because this takes over him in ways Harry can't reason with.  
  
"That's what my knot is for, baby." he points out, nipping on the side of his neck.  
  
Louis' lying on his tummy, body limp and sated.  
  
"Yeah, but I need it inside me." he grumbles.  
  
Harry laughs again, tries to soothe him with small kisses, over his shoulders and the back of his neck.  
  
Louis hums, his voice gets sweeter.  
  
"When you pull out, leave it inside of me."  
  
Harry bites him again, a bit harder this time, but he doesn't hurt him.  
  
It's just to catch his attention.  
  
"No." he tells him. "You can have it inside of you as long as we're knotting."  
  
Louis lets out a frustrated sound, but he stops arguing with him.  
  
He lets Harry take care of him, he sleeps when he does, and they wake up together, falling into a perfect rhythm for three days.  
  
It feels natural, it feels like the world outside isn't even there, and they're stuck in a perfect bubble.  
  
Just the two of them, in sync with each other, needing nothing else.  
  
Louis' little mewls whenever Harry leaves the bedroom, and Harry's admonishing growls when Louis gets too aggressive.  
  
It's the version of them Harry likes best.  
  
Stripped to their core, to the bare essential.  
  
It reminds them of how well they fit together, even when their differences try to tear them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have opinions you'd like to share, please do <3  
> I love feedback.  
> I am in a very committed relationship with feedback.  
> I want feedback to marry me.
> 
> To sum it up, leave a comment and make my day?
> 
> Lots of love .x


	3. Fearless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This story was not an easy one to write.**
> 
> **The idea struck me after I watched a documentary on the unspoken reality of the porn industry. The uneasiness and the anger and the pain I felt from it, all those feelings wanted to be let out. So I put them in this story.**
> 
> **I knew it would be difficult at some point, since the moment I started writing it. But I was ready to deal with it and find a way to get it out, to let the story get hurtful and bad, to help Louis find his closure.**
> 
> **I truly hope it makes you feel something.**
> 
> **Enjoy <3 **

Harry tries to talk about it one morning, while Louis' forcing himself to clean his house.  
  
He's not very talkative, his mouth stuck in an eternal pout, as he stuffs his dirty clothes into the washer, scrubs the sink, gets rid of the expired food in his cabinets.  
  
Harry keeps him company, that's all he can do, since Louis won't let him help.  
  
"I'm making enough money, now. I can afford to stop working for quite a while. I'm probably going to study marketing or something." he says. "I'll be able to land a decent job if I do things right."  
  
Louis hums, half distracted by the stains on his kitchen floor.  
  
"Besides, it's only a temporary project." Harry continues. "I just wanted to come up with a-" he pauses, breathes in. "Different way to do it."  
  
He almost said _better._  
  
"I believe porn could be a good way to learn about sexuality." he goes on, moving out of Louis' way to let him mop the floor. "But most of the stuff you find online is centered around dominance and violence." he points out, pausing to catch Louis' reaction.  
  
His back goes a little stiff, but he doesn't reply.  
  
He simply gets the laundry out of the washer and moves it into the dryer.  
  
"I've talked to a lot of omegas who worked in porn." Harry resumes, carefully following Louis into the bedroom. "Most of them had no idea what they were getting into. It doesn't pay that well most times, especially for what they expect them to do. Aggressiveness is normalized to a crazy extent."  
  
Louis tears the sheets off the bed while Harry speaks, he bends forward to inspect the small dip in his mattress.  
  
"All the actresses I worked with have a background in mainstream porn." Harry tells him. "They all seem to love my project. You know, fighting back against porn culture and stuff." he laughs, flustered by Louis' stubborn silence.  
  
"I just-" he tries again, looking for an actual reaction.  
  
"I want people to see the omegas enjoying themselves, be cherished and pleasured by an alpha, for a change."  
  
Louis' leaving the room again, so he can get his sheets into the washer.  
  
Harry helps him fold the laundry when it's done, and Louis still hasn't said a word.  
  
"If I can make someone's sex life healthier," Harry starts over. "And discourage violent behaviors," he continues, studying Louis' little grin. "I'll be satisfied." Harry concludes.  
  
Louis raises his eyebrows at him.  
  
"Not everyone likes it vanilla, Harry." he retorts.  
  
Apparently, that's all he has to say.  
  
That's all Harry gets.

__

They don't bring it up anymore.  
  
It's still there at first, lingering in the air every time they get quiet, begging to be seen.  
  
But none of them wants to go there.  
  
Once was enough.  
  
They almost broke up over it, and it was enough.  
  
Louis keeps doing his thing, leaving Harry out of it, and Harry doesn't ask him any questions.  
  
They just let it go, unable to shake off the feeling that it's only a matter of time, before it all comes back.

They're watching a movie, hands touching by mistake in the bowl of popcorn Louis has in his lap, distracted kisses every now and then.  
  
They're finding a balance, a way to be around each other and share space, time, in a way that feels easy and natural.  
  
Harry comes over whenever Louis' in the mood, he leaves him alone when Louis asks him, and they only meet when the stars are aligned.  
  
This way they don't fight, they don't have to go there.  
  
At some point Louis realizes he's just pretending to watch the movie.  
  
It dawns on him when Harry laughs, and he has no idea what just happened, but he manages to push out a little chuckle, just for the sake of it.  
  
He's not paying attention, he's not even sure at what point he stopped following.  
  
All he knows, is that Harry smells amazing.  
  
It's not his cologne, or the apricot shampoo, it's not even the laundry detergent with the little teddy bear on the bottle.  
  
It's his skin.  
  
It's the same smell that lingers on his sheets when they spend the night together, and all of a sudden Louis understands why it takes such a big effort to get up the morning after, when Harry's gone.  
  
"You're being very rude." Harry tells him, out of nowhere, his eyes still fixed on the laptop. "Staring at me like that."  
  
Louis' first reaction would normally be an insult, probably followed by some degree of physical violence.  
  
This time he just goes straight to what comes after.  
  
He leans forward and, with no warning whatsoever, he shuts the laptop and lays it on the floor.  
  
Harry wants to laugh, but he's too surprised to react properly.  
  
Even when Louis climbs on top of him, dives his hands into his hair and pulls gently to expose his neck, Harry stays still.  
  
Whatever it is, it's taking over him.  
  
Louis doesn't need to give it a name, to give in to it.  
  
He presses his face into the crook of Harry's neck, and before he knows it he's inhaling his scent, mewling, then licking and nipping on the skin.  
  
That's what finally gets Harry going.  
  
He makes a dark, rumbling sound, and the muscles in Louis' tummy contract gently, his heartbeat picks up the pace.  
  
"Look at you, baby." Harry husks. "You really wanna get fucked." he points out, his hands still flat on the mattress, to keep his balance.  
  
Maybe just to make Louis a little more desperate.  
  
Louis hums, he leans back to look into his eyes, finding them darker, a little glazed over.  
  
He wonders if Harry's cock is a little wet on the tip, it's just a distracted thought, but it's enough to make him circle his hips, grind down on him.  
  
Harry hisses, his body tenses up under him.  
  
"Dirty mouth." Louis whispers to him, flicking his tongue over Harry's bottom lip.  
  
The alpha huffs out a flustered laugh.  
  
He's still not touching him, but Louis' enjoying the feeling of his erection rubbing between his buttcheeks.  
  
He's also enjoying how smug Harry looks, how controlled he can be.  
  
Just plain cruel and incredibly hot.  
  
"I've got a dirty mouth?" Harry teases him, half a smile curving his lips. "Two days ago you called me your breeding stallion." he reminds him, biting on Louis' fingers when the omega tries to shut his mouth. "You really thought I'd let that one slide?" he insists, cracking up when Louis shows him his teeth and threatens him with a little snarl.  
  
"It's called being passionate." he hisses, leaning forward to bite on Harry's jaw.  
  
When Harry flips their positions, it happens so fast Louis has no time to even consider resisting him.  
  
Not that it matters, since Harry's pressing him into the mattress with his entire weight.  
  
Louis moans, just at that, his breathing already out of control.  
  
"I love that about you." Harry tells him, lifting his shirt up to expose his stomach.  
  
Louis stays perfectly still, staring back at him when Harry starts tracing his skin, the tip of his finger tickling his belly button, before he drags it back up.  
  
Louis' breath catches in his throat, stuck with another moan and at least a dozen insults.  
  
He hates waiting, but he knows how good Harry can make him feel, how hard he can make him come.  
  
That's why he puts up with his torture for a little longer.  
  
Harry's pulling up his shirt again, a bit more, because he's a damn bastard and he knows how sensitive Louis' nipples are.  
  
Louis asks him with a tiny sound, pleading and quite pathetic, if you ask him, but Harry ignores him.  
  
He keeps him there, at his mercy, and he stares, he fucking _stares_ at him.  
  
Then he leans in, his eyes still focused on his chest, and Louis can already feel his mouth on him, he arches his back and he whimpers just thinking about it.  
  
But once again, Harry doesn't touch him.  
  
His mouth is so close, right above his nipple, when he glances up at him, he licks his lips and "You're getting so wet." he tells him.  
  
Louis bursts into frustrated laughter, oxygen barely making it into his lungs.  
  
Harry comes back up, he leaves a small peck on his mouth, too unexpected to be reciprocated.  
  
Then he moves a little, giving Louis more room to squirm around, breathe.  
  
But as soon as Louis tries to reach up to kiss him, Harry shoves him back down, a big hand against his sternum, warm and heavy.  
  
Louis' losing his damn mind.  
  
"Come on." he moans, shooting him a sweet look. "Harry."  
  
He can see him hesitating, smiling softly at the sound of his voice.  
  
It doesn't last long, though.  
  
"Are you making a mess in your underwear, baby?" he asks him, looking right into his eyes, his hand still keeping him in place. "Getting all juicy and open for me?"  
  
It could be his words, chosen so carefully to make Louis hyper-aware of his body, of how ready and empty he's feeling.  
  
Or maybe his voice, all scratchy and fucked up, sending a painful shiver down Louis' spine.  
  
Perhaps it's the way Harry's looking at him, like he wants to _devour_ him, like the moment he finally gets his cock all up in him Louis' gonna black out.  
  
All he knows is that he wants him, in a way that makes him wanna cry, and beg, and scream, and come all over himself.  
  
"God, Harry." he chokes out, arching his back once more, his body imploring his touch. "Please."  
  
He can hear the sheer desperation in his own voice, he sounds so gone he can barely recognize himself.  
  
"If you ask me that way." Harry breathes, finally taking pity on him, his tongue invading his mouth.  
  
Louis' heart is thumping impossibly hard, when Harry's hand becomes more possessive, when his fingers pinch gently on his nipple.  
  
Louis positively screams in response, legs quivering around Harry's hips.  
  
And it goes from zero to a fucking hundred. One moment Louis' just about to cry with how much he needs to be touched, and the next Harry's all over him.  
  
He's sucking on his nipples, making him squeal and kick his legs out, giving him a break to bite on his neck, until Louis breathes in, and then his mouth is on him again.  
  
He's making his way down, his tongue on his stomach, his teeth on his inner thigh, gentle yet brutally exciting.  
  
And he has no idea what comes after, he couldn't possibly understand.  
  
But his eyes are rolling into the back of his head, and his entire body is shaking, fucking floating, caving in and splitting open.  
  
"Fuck." Harry growls, from somewhere between Louis' thighs. "Baby." he rumbles, pressing his lips to the tip of Louis' cock.  
  
When Louis manages to open his eyes, he's pretty sure he must have died.  
  
Harry's looking at him, eyes glossy and beautiful, and he's laughing.  
  
It's sweet, maybe a little shocked, and Louis can only keep blinking, trying to regain consciousness.  
  
Harry brushes his fringe back, his hand cool and reassuring over his forehead.  
  
"That was amazing." he whispers to him, leaving an affectionate kiss on Louis' parted lips. "You came as soon as I put your cock in my mouth." he informs him, the amazement in his voice tearing a weak laugh out of Louis.  
  
So that's what happened, because Louis had no idea.  
  
He really can't remember when Harry took his clothes off, but he's naked now, his skin warm, a furious flush spreading over his chest.  
  
He tries to speak, but all that comes out is something between a gasp and a sob.  
  
Harry shushes him, he pulls him closer and squeezes him for a moment, just until Louis starts breathing properly and stops shaking.  
  
Then he leans back, he looks at him.  
  
"I think I almost killed you." he tells him, his voice low and soft.  
  
Louis nods, slow and weak, he tries to speak again with no results.  
  
"Hush, baby." Harry murmurs, their lips touching. "It's okay."  
  
Louis closes his eyes, he gives up on trying to function, letting Harry comfort him, slowly bring him back down.  
  
"I got you." Harry tells him, pulling him into his arms. "Just breathe" he says, his voice warm and thick.  
  
Louis stays still, he stays quiet.  
  
Harry holds him tight, and he stops talking for a while, but Louis can hear how fast his heart is beating.  
  
He might be insane, but he thinks he can fucking _feel_ it.  
  
He can feel it coming when Harry's still breathing in, swallowing dry, breathing out.  
  
Then he says it.  
  
"I love you." he says, and Louis could swear he can feel it running inside his fucking veins.

He doesn't realize it's him, at first.  
  
He's just scrolling through Twitter, on auto-pilot, watching the weather forecast and making instant noodles all at the same time.  
  
Then he sees the pictures.  
  
He almost scrolls past them, his nose scrunched up, uneasiness coursing through him, for some reason.  
  
He freezes, for a moment.  
  
He scrolls back up and he really looks, this time.  
  
That's him.  
  
Lying on his back, with his legs spread open, his hole in full display.  
  
In the next one an alpha is towering over him, a big hand digging into his throat, snarling at him. He's got three fingers in him, and Louis' looking at him, his mouth open in a fake moan.  
  
He's stopped stirring the noodles, so now they're sticking to the pan, they're burning.  
  
Louis can't bring himself to move.  
  
He keeps staring at his phone, his stomach clenching, tying up into horrified knots.  
  
He can't remember posing for those pictures, no matter how hard he tries.  
  
And he looks so small. So vulnerable.  
  
He looks so _naked_.  
  
There's smoke in the kitchen, when he startles and drops his phone to the ground, darts forward to turn the stove off, ends up burning his wrist in the process.  
  
He stands there, for a bit longer.  
  
Numb.  
  
Then he sighs, he leaves the kitchen and goes to bed.  
  
His phone is still on the kitchen floor, when he falls asleep.

"Merry Christmas, baby." Harry sighs.  
  
He sounded happy, up until a second ago.  
  
Louis' freezing, the hand he's using to hold up the phone is red and shaky, starting to go numb.  
  
"Are you crying?" he teases, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody's coming to call him back inside. "Miss me that much?"  
  
Harry laughs, but it still sounds off.  
  
There's a moment of heavy silence, while Louis considers running back into the house and stand in front of the fireplace until his skin melts right off his body.  
  
He hates being cold.  
  
"Happy birthday." Harry tells him, his voice strained.  
  
Louis blinks, over and over until his brain finally resets.  
  
His vision got blurry, all of sudden, but he's not crying.  
  
Definitely not crying.  
  
"Say that to my face." he hisses into the phone, a little bitter.  
  
Harry stays quiet for a second, and Louis laughs, as if wanting to prove he was just playing.  
  
Then Harry speaks again, and Louis briefly forgets about the unbearable temperature, when he hears how warm his voice sounds.  
  
"It's just a couple hours' drive, you know." Harry says. "From here to there."  
  
Louis licks his lips, then regrets it, because they might fall off his face if the wind keeps howling this way.  
  
One of his hands is tucked away in the pocket of his jacket, pulling at loose threads, nervous.  
  
He should probably change the topic.  
  
Harry's kidding, of course he is, but Louis should derail this conversation, just in case.  
  
"My mom bought me the most hideous sweater I've ever seen in my life." he blurts out. "And I have to pretend to love it for the next two days."  
  
Harry chuckles, then, before he can answer "Seems a bit rude, doesn't it?" Louis asks. "Leaving your family there just so you can come to Doncaster."  
  
He hears Harry inhale, get ready to reply.  
  
"Are you that horny?" Louis asks quickly, unable to shut up. "Rub one off in the bathroom and get back to me."  
  
He should really change the topic, by the way.  
  
Maybe Harry will.  
  
Hopefully.  
  
"I did." Harry replies, more amusement in his voice this time. "Didn't work."  
  
Louis might be smiling, but maybe the muscles his face just atrophied and stopped working.  
  
"Gotta go." he quickly says, before Harry can make it any worse.  
  
Louis can't hear anything at first, and he wonders if Harry's distracted, or just holding his breath.  
  
Then he hears him breathe out, heavy and disappointed.  
  
"Okay." he hears him say.  
  
And that's it, right?  
  
This is the part where Louis hangs up, shakes the snow off his shoulders and gets back inside to make cookies with his sisters.  
  
It's the only logical thing to do.  
  
"You were kidding, right?" he asks, instead. "Tell me you were kidding."  
  
His heart has started to pick up the pace, for some reason.  
  
It's the cold, most definitely.  
  
"I was." Harry replies, calm.  
  
Louis nods, because he knew that, of course he did.  
  
"Really?" he asks.  
  
He hears Harry's flustered laughter, then one more moment of silence.  
  
"No." he hears him say. "I mean it."  
  
Louis' gonna die, out here.  
  
"I really have to go." he says.  
  
Harry keeps quiet.  
  
"Stop fucking with me." Louis adds, shifting on his feet to try and warm himself up.  
  
He can't feel his hands anymore.  
  
Can't feel much of anything, aside from the furious beat of his heart.  
  
"I might take you seriously, you know."  
  
And now he should hang up, for real this time.  
  
Before Harry "And you should." tells him.  
  
Too late for that.  
  
He said it.  
  
"See you in a couple hours?" Harry asks, casual and smug.  
  
Louis is smiling, but he's not crying, not at all.  
  
These tears are just his body begging him to seek warmth.  
  
That's a thing that totally happens.  
  
"Maybe I will." he chokes out, forcing his voice past the lump in his throat. "Now fuck off, I'm freezing my arse off."  
  
And that's when he hangs up.  
  
A minute too late.

It's not like Louis believes it.  
  
He's not that naive.  
  
Besides, he's the king of sarcasm, he can totally tell when someone is not being serious.  
  
Harry was just teasing him, Louis' a hundred percent sure.  
  
Ninety-nine percent, because with Harry you never know.  
  
But even for him this would be too much.  
  
It was a joke, pretty innocent and unoriginal, all things considered.  
  
Louis' eighty-seven percent sure.  
  
Okay, sixty percent, but no less than that.  
  
When his phone buzzes inside his pocket, he gets it out so quickly he positively throws it across the room.  
  
All of his sisters stop posing for their picture and turn to look at him, four little heads snapping in his direction, four pairs of very suspicious eyes all fixed on his face.  
  
"Guess I've had enough wine." Louis laughs, stumbling to his feet to retrieve his phone.  
  
And he's lucky his sisters are too into their Instagram accounts, to care.

_Let's say I wasn't kidding_ the text reads.

Louis' heart jumps right up his throat, and his little coughing fit earns him more questioning looks.  
  
He sinks back down onto the couch, eyes glued to the screen until the next message arrives.

_If I was at a gas station and had no idea where to go next_

Louis springs back up, shrugs his jacket on, tangles himself into a scarf before the adrenaline gives him a heart attack and heads straight to door.

"Out of smokes!" he yells, before his mother can even get a word out. "Be back in a bit."

Harry has no idea what the car Louis rented looks like.  
  
Louis turns the engine off, then finally checks on his phone.

_We probably should have talked about this._

He laughs, quiet, scared Harry might somehow hear him.

_I might have had one beer too many, I admit it._

That's a very lame excuse, and Louis' gonna tell him that, when he's done reading his other text.

_If I don't see you in a bit, we'll just pretend I'm still in Holmes Chapel and this never happened. Also, you won't be a little shit and torture me with it for the rest of my life. Deal?_

Louis' smiling wide at his phone, but it's not long before he puts it away.  
  
He turns to look at him, and ends up biting on his lip when he sees him again.  
  
He's standing outside of his car, shivering and stomping his feet, hunched over, a little desperate.  
  
Louis lets out a little laugh, his nerves threatening to snap if he doesn't get out of the damn car soon.  
  
But he needs a minute.  
  
He's fully aware this is not something he's supposed to be happy about.  
  
It's way past what would be considered appropriate, for two people who have been seeing each other for a few months.  
  
For fuck's sake, they haven't met each other's family, and what they're doing doesn't even have a name.  
  
Harry told him he loves him once, okay, whatever, but they had just had sex and that tends to have an effect on people.  
  
It doesn't really count, does it?  
  
He's still staring at Harry, laughing at how tall and awkward he is, big hands holding his phone and looking down at it like his whole life depends on it.  
  
His hair is blowing into his face, and the air coming out of his mouth is white, his lips look purple even from a distance.  
  
Louis just can't fathom why the hell Harry even got out of the car in the first place.  
  
When he musters the courage to open the door, he does it carefully, quietly.  
  
He makes his way to him with tiny, calculated steps, his heart hammering in his chest, thrilled.  
  
He could touch him, if he just stretched out his arm.  
  
Instead, he hits send.  
  
Harry immediately brings his phone closer to his face, he abrubtly stops moving, he sucks in a sharp breath.

_Turn around._ is all Louis wrote him.

And Harry does turn around, slowly, like he's not sure he's really going to find him there.  
  
And the face he makes, when he sees him, that's one of the most beautiful things Louis' ever witnessed.  
  
"You are so into me." Louis laughs, his hands clenching into fists inside his pockets.  
  
His heart is still doing that thing, hammering in his chest like it wants out, and there's only so much he can do, to pretend this is doing nothing to him.  
  
Harry's smiling, embarrassed and relieved, the dimples in his cheeks looking impossibly cute.  
  
"Happy birthday, Lou." he says.  
  
Louis tips his head down, his chest tight with something he can't waste time acknowledging right now.  
  
"Is this what you wanted?" he asks, lifting his shoulders into a little shrug. "Can I go, now?"  
  
He's looking at Harry's worn out boots, waiting for the courage to look back up at his face, keep up the act.  
  
He does, look back at him, and Harry's expression is not very amused.  
  
Louis laughs at it, wishing he could be less of a dick all of a sudden.  
  
But he's never been good with this kind of thing.  
  
Come on, what's he supposed to say?  
  
Harry's the inappropriate one, let's not forget that.  
  
They haven't met each other's friends or anything, they don't live together, they have never truly discussed this.  
  
Louis' entitled to feel a little surprised, a tad offended even.  
  
His not-boyfriend somehow thought it would be a good idea, to drop everything and intrude into his life this way.  
  
Louis' supposed to feel taken aback, or maybe he should be angry, probably annoyed by Harry's obsession with him.  
  
But when Harry pins him to the hood of his car to kiss him, there's not much he can do.  
  
He can only dig his fingers into his back, close his eyes, and kiss him back.

Louis' straddling him, their mouths crushing together while Harry sneaks his hands up Louis' sweater.  
  
Louis' feeling a lot better now that they're touching, especially with the way the heater is blowing hot air right into his skin.  
  
Harry's already out of breath, his cock going stiff under Louis' ass, but he's also a little panicky, glancing out the window even as Louis' tongue is twisting inside his mouth.  
  
"It's Christmas Eve, Harry." Louis reminds him, leaning back to unbutton Harry's jeans. "Everybody's home."  
  
Harry avoids his kiss, his hands heavy and nervous on Louis' waist.  
  
"Maybe we could got to a hotel." he pants, blinking repeatedly while he tries to form more words. "Having sex in a parking lot is illegal, Lou." he adds. "Even on Christmas Eve."  
  
Louis smiles at how scared he looks right now, mostly because he's also grinding up against him while he tries to change his mind.  
  
"But it's also my birthday." Louis whines, pouting.  
  
He's pressing his hand to Harry's crotch now, feeling him up, and that works pretty well as a distraction.  
  
Harry bites his lip, his eyes falling shut when he tips his head back.  
  
"Happy birthday to me." Louis murmurs, finally getting Harry's cock out.  
  
He strokes it slowly, his eyes locked onto it.  
  
Harry seems to have forgotten the risks, and he lets Louis play with him a little, lets him lift his sweater back up to rub his hard cock against his warm tummy.  
  
Harry's eyes snap open, dropping down to look at that, and then he's pushing Louis' hand out of the way to grip his erection.  
  
"Now we're talking." Louis chuckles, holding his sweater up for him.  
  
Harry leans forward like he can't stop himself, his mouth closing around Louis' nipple, the tip of his cock sliding up and down Louis' belly, smearing precum all over him.  
  
Louis arches his back, offers himself to him, and he's getting too slick to keep fucking around this way.  
  
When Harry starts tapping his cock against him, a bit too enthusiastically to be trusted, Louis lets his sweater fall back down, he pulls hard on Harry's hair until he manages to get his mouth off of himself.  
  
"Don't you dare come." he threatens, forcing him to let go of his erection.  
  
Harry's arms fall at his sides, he slumps into his seat, his eyes barely open while Louis keeps stroking him, his grip mean and greedy.  
  
"I could knot you in a hotel room." the alpha mumbles, not bothering to lift a finger as Louis struggles to get out of his pants. "Wouldn't that be nice?"  
  
His voice sounds shot and heavy, raspy with arousal.  
  
There's no way Louis' letting him get out of this, not when he sounds like that, not when his cock is so hard and so beautiful, ready to be put to good use.  
  
"That would be lovely, Harry." Louis snarls, throwing his pants and his underwear on the backseat.  
  
Harry's fingers are rubbing over his hole before he's even had time to blink.  
  
"But I want it now." Louis breathes, spreading his thighs over Harry's lap to give him better access.  
  
Harry hums, and Louis' expecting him to keep arguing, but he was wrong.  
  
Harry's done caring.  
  
He's looking straight into Louis' eyes now, his pupils so big and dark Louis can barely see a green ring around them.  
  
Louis has enough time to pull Harry's jeans down his thighs, before the alpha's yanking him back into his lap.  
  
Then two of his fingers are pressing up against his hole, pushing past the rim and inside of him.  
  
Louis bites on Harry's neck to keep from moaning.  
  
He stays there for a minute, listening to the growl Harry keeps pushing back down his throat, while he fingers him.  
  
Then he breathes out, he leans back to look at his face.  
  
He's so beautiful and wild, all of a sudden, Louis could come just with his fingers, just looking at him.  
  
But he holds back, even if he feels like bursting, he just has to.  
  
He lifts a hand to brush Harry's hair out of his face, almost tender, then he kisses him.  
  
He just presses their lips together, their mouths wet and swollen, and Harry slips his tongue into his mouth, his movements get rougher, less patient.  
  
"You wanna fuck me." Louis whispers.  
  
It's not even a question, it just comes out of him before he's had a chance to think about it.  
  
Harry's fingers abandon him in response, pulling out of him so abruptly Louis' whole body shakes in protest.  
  
"You bet I do." Harry rumbles, guiding his cock up to find Louis' hole.  
  
Louis would help him, if he could move.  
  
But he stays there, barely able to hold his own weight up while Harry rubs his cock between his cheeks, looking for the way in.  
  
"Gonna pound you a little," he's letting him know, dangerously calm. "Fuck you in this pretty arse," he continues, starting to press the tip of his cock to Louis' hole. "And then I'll let you go home."  
  
Louis lets out a strangled laugh, more desperate than amused, but Harry's cock pushing into him has him going quiet pretty soon.  
  
His body finally starts working again, sinking down onto it while Harry snaps his hips up to thrust deeper into him.  
  
That's all it takes for them to lose it.  
  
Louis' had a lot of sex, in his life.  
  
He's had a fair share of quickies in his teen years, a few memorable fucks with his ex-boyfriend before he moved to London, and then sex became an even bigger part of his life, between frequent one-night stands and, well. Getting fucked for a living.  
  
He's done it in every way, alphas betas and omegas, splayed comfortably in bed and bent over a sink in a public restroom, any day of the week, any time of day and night, slow and lazy, fast and rough.  
  
There's not much that can surprise him, when it comes to sex.  
  
Except for Harry.  
  
What Harry does to him.  
  
Louis' clinging to him, his nails digging in Harry's shoulders, and he's bouncing on him like it's what he was made for, hard and deep and impossibly wet, unable to stop before he can't take it anymore.  
  
Harry makes him want.  
  
"Are you gonna come on my cock, baby?" he's asking him, and of course Louis is.  
  
He's moving on him like he might die if he stops, the muscles in his legs burning, the air in his lungs running out a little more, every time Harry's cock gets buried inside of him.  
  
"You're so pretty when you come for me." Harry's praising him, his hands gentle over Louis' waist, letting him ride the wave at his own pace.  
  
Of course Louis keeps forgetting how to keep him at a distance, when Harry makes him feel this way.  
  
Even after he comes, when the pressure in his tummy has melted and disappeared, Harry makes him want.  
  
Louis keeps moving on top of him, tired and slow, unable to stop until he just can't do it anymore, until Harry feels just as good as him.  
  
Louis' had a lot of sex, over the years.  
  
Submissive in the studio, putting on a show for the people watching him, the ones using him.  
  
Dominant in his bedroom, taking back pleasure and control from the people into him, using them.  
  
But he's never had it this way.  
  
Harry's breathing is fast, broken, as he gets closer to the edge.  
  
And Louis wants to see it, he wants to kiss him while Harry pulls out just in time and spills over his stomach, a hand wrapped around the back of Louis' neck to keep him close.  
  
When the sex is over, Louis usually stops caring about it for a while.  
  
He gets his paycheck, or he kicks the guy out.  
  
He's never been interested in what comes after, once he gets what he wants.  
  
Only Harry makes him want more.  
  
Louis wants to be held, and kissed, and he wants to laugh when Harry wipes him down with scarf, promising to buy a new one for him the moment they're back in London.  
  
He wants to grab his face and bite on his mouth, kiss him again, until he can't breathe anymore.  
  
Harry somehow makes him want the things that Louis' most afraid of.

They're back at the gas station, and Louis' talking himself into just leaving Harry's car and facing the cold, so he can make it back home.  
  
His mother has called him twice already, and he's running out of time.  
  
"Before you go," Harry tells him, like he can read it on his face. "Let me give you this."  
  
Louis twists in his seat, his eyes fixed on Harry for the whole time it takes him to rummage through the bag on his backseat and turn back around.  
  
His next instinct is mocking him, cruel enough to make him regret doing this.  
  
He's trying so hard to come up with some kind of snarky comment, anything will do, but he can't seem to get his voice out.  
  
His mouth is open, at least there's that, but he still can't speak.  
  
Harry brought him flowers.  
  
They're so pretty, and they smell good, and they look too precious and delicate for Louis to touch them.  
  
Nobody's ever given him flowers, he has no idea what he's supposed to do with them.  
  
"Here." Harry laughs, pushing them into Louis' chest until he accepts them.  
  
Louis looks down at them, his cheeks burning furiously, and he's still speechless.  
  
"Also these." Harry says, while Louis buries his nose into a white rose, pretending to smell it while mostly trying to hide his shame.  
  
"Haven't had time to wrap them." Harry chuckles, handing him a pair of socks.  
  
Louis' still busy digesting the first gift, so it's no surprise when he keeps quiet.  
  
" 'cause we went to see the Lion King together." Harry explains, his smile shifting from excited to confused really quickly. "Remember?"  
  
Louis nods, his eyes wide and shocked when he reaches out to grab them.  
  
He's supposed to laugh at the pattern, since the baby Simba on them is wearing a Christmas hat and everything.  
  
Instead he stays perfectly still, the flowers still clutched to his chest and the socks crumpled in his other hand, swallowing dry and begging his brain to come up with something.  
  
Anything.  
  
"Want me to walk you to your car?" Harry offers, his voice sounding insecure now.  
  
Louis' still staring at the socks, and his heart is beating with something he's not sure he's felt before.  
  
He finally lifts his gaze up to Harry's face.  
  
Harry's staring at him, a little uncertain, maybe hopeful.  
  
"Thank you." Louis finally says, his voice thin. "I love them."  
  
Harry lets out a little laugh, but it sounds more like a relieved sigh.  
  
The flowers end up smushed between them, when Louis lunges forward to kiss him.  
  
Then he's laughing, maybe just to get some air back in, and "Let me make you a cup of tea before you leave." he's saying. "I'll show you the way."  
  
Before Harry can answer Louis' rushing outside, his arms wrapped possessively around his gifts, and he's not really sure what he's doing.  
  
He hasn't been for a while.

They spend New Year's Eve in a club in Soho, forgetting all about their friends after the first few drinks.  
  
The plan was to find a way to be together without ditching their initial plans, so they both convinced everyone to meet there, unaware of one another and too eager to get drunk to really care.  
  
Harry and Louis met in the middle of the crowd, and they started dancing, and drinking, and making out like horny teenagers, shifting and hiding and tripping on their feet, until they ended up in a corner.  
  
They're still glued to each other, sweaty and kind of exhausted, laughing into each other's mouth when they think they can hear someone calling for them.  
  
They stop existing for anybody, surrounded by dozens of people and still somehow convinced there's just the two of them.  
  
Louis' arms are locked around his neck, he's pushing himself up on his tiptoes, like he can't get enough of Harry's mouth.  
  
He can feel how tight Harry's hold feels on him, territorial even, and he can hear how fast he's breathing, how much he wants to get out of here.  
  
"Take me home." Louis whispers into his ear.  
  
It's not even midnight, when Harry drags him outside.

They're still a little tipsy.  
  
Harry's positively ripping his clothes off of him, and Louis' not complaining, but he's not helping him, either.  
  
He's been waiting for this moment since he laid eyes on him three hours ago, when he still looked human and his legs were able to support his own weight, when Harry bit hard on his lip as he looked him up and down.  
  
Louis' cock has been hard ever since, but he lets Harry do most of the work, getting him naked and open all on his own.  
  
Then he finally lies on top of him, and Louis starts cooperating, spreading his legs around him and kissing him back.  
  
Harry feels heavy on top of him, shaking with need, his skin slick with sweat and hot to the touch.  
  
He smells intoxicating, and he's kissing the life out of him, but there's something Louis needs to ask, before Harry's cock is inside of him and he forgets how to speak.  
  
So he grabs his face and he blinks until Harry comes into focus, his eyes warm and bright, hungry for him.  
  
"You know that thing you told me, a while ago?" Louis asks him.  
  
Harry's hand is still on Louis' cock, his mouth on his neck, when he makes a questioning noise.  
  
Louis huffs out a laugh, loses his train of thought when Harry swipes his tongue over his nipple.  
  
"What thing?" he hears him say, his voice deep and scratchy.  
  
Louis arches up under him, his body moving in sync with Harry's touch.  
  
His hands are heavy on him, they're travelling so expertly over his skin that Louis shuts his eyes and goes quiet, he does forget what he wanted to say.  
  
Harry brushes a hand over his forehead, and he stops touching his body, even though he's still above him, pressing him into the mattress like a promise.  
  
"What thing, Lou?" he slurs, laughing at how drunk he sounds.  
  
Louis opens his eyes again, his chest lifting and rising desperately, searching for air.  
  
"The love thing." he tells him, his voice tiny and shy.  
  
Harry's gaze becomes even more intense, starts burning with something different.  
  
Louis feels small under it, naked and defenseless.  
  
"Oh." Harry murmurs, smiling. " _That_ thing."  
  
He threads his fingers through Louis' hair, getting his fringe out of his eyes.  
  
He bends down to kiss him, just once, then he looks at him again.  
  
The air between them is electric, heavy with heat, but they stay close.  
  
"I want you to say it to me." Louis asks, pressing a hand to Harry's mouth before he can say anything. "While you're inside of me."  
  
Harry stops moving for a moment, their eyes still locked.  
  
Then he grabs Louis' hand, bites on it softly, he nods.  
  
"I'm just really drunk." Louis tells him, as Harry spreads his legs to push inside of him.  
  
Louis moans at the intrusion, he scratches his nails down Harry's back to immediately ask for more.  
  
Harry shushes him with a kiss, wet and painfully good, and he starts thrusting.  
  
Louis' heart is pounding in his chest, blood rushing fiercely through his veins, and all he wants is for Harry to fuck him, and touch him, and fill him up so good he feels like bursting.  
  
The plan was partying in Soho, splitting between each other and their friends, get shitfaced and flip off yet another year.  
  
Drink a lot, dance a little, do all the things people do to find some meaning in what's supposed to be a special day.  
  
But it's not even midnight and nobody else exists, time is not real, there's just the two of them.  
  
Louis' body is wet and open, shaking under Harry and letting him in, and all Louis wants is to be fucked, and knotted and looked at the way Harry's looking at him right now.  
  
"I love you." Harry tells him, and that's really all Louis wants.

Nick's looking him up and down, in a way that makes Louis want to put his clothes back on.  
  
"Lost weight, babe?" he asks, his eyes still studying him. "Looking good."  
  
Louis just knits his eyebrows together, unsure what to say.  
  
Nick gets up from his chair, he snaps his fingers until the guy pays him attention, then gestures for him to come closer.  
  
"Time to fuck, big guy." he laughs, a friendly smile on his face when he smacks his shoulder.  
  
The alpha is tall and buff, he must be at least in his mid-thirties, maybe even older than that.  
  
Louis' not crazy about him.  
  
He's still looking at him, shaking his hand, when he feels a pinch on his buttcheek.  
  
He looks over his shoulder, and Nick's grinning at him.  
  
"You look hot." he tells him. "But don't lose the ass. That's your money maker."  
  
That feeling comes back, the same one he got when he took an accidental glimpse at his pictures that night.  
  
It's upsetting, and dark, it's so disturbing he needs to shove right back down to wherever it came from.  
  
"Let's get started." Nick decides, clapping his hands.

"I'm gonna miss you." Harry tells him, his voice sounding warm and reassuring, even through the phone.  
  
Louis smiles, or at least he thinks he does, he can't really feel his face.  
  
The only thing he can feel is the dull pain in his back, the stinging in his arse.  
  
And still a few traces of that anxiety he's been trying to ignore.  
  
He just needs to sleep on it, he's sure.  
  
"I'll see you in a few days." he replies, gritting his teeth for the whole time it takes him to move and lie on his side. "I need to study a bit, no distractions allowed."  
  
He hears Harry' sigh, the longing in his silence.  
  
"Okay, baby." he hears him say. "Let me know when you want me to come over."  
  
"Goodnight." Louis tells him, putting an end to their call.

He gave Harry a spare key, not long ago.  
  
He kept falling asleep while waiting for him, forcing him to helplessly wait outside until he finally woke up.  
  
It was the only logical solution, because lately he sleeps like a rock, and he can't seem to be able to change that.  
  
When Harry kisses him, light and delicate, he just stirs, he makes up a few words to try and push him away.  
  
Then he falls asleep again, just briefly, before Harry's gently pulling on his arm.  
  
Louis groans, he rubs his eyes and he stretches, but he still feels exhausted when he manages to get up.  
  
Harry's made him tea.  
  
"Come on, Lou." he encourages. "Wake up. I brought dinner."  
  
Louis' stomach twists just hearing the word, but his brain sends him the opposite impulse.  
  
Just thinking about eating makes him dry heave.  
  
Harry's frowning at him, watching him closely, but he keeps quiet while they make their way into the living room.  
  
Louis drinks half his tea, then forgets the cup on a shelf.  
  
He leaves a small kiss on Harry's mouth, and the alpha pulls him closer, tries to wrap his arms around him while kissing him back.  
  
"Let's eat." Louis suggests, pulling away from his grip.  
  
Harry's expression is still the same.  
  
Puzzled and somewhat cautious.  
  
He steps back, he sits down and waits for Louis to do the same.  
  
It takes him a while, but eventually Louis starts forming complete sentences, actually holding a conversation, despite how dizzy and disconnected he's feeling.  
  
Harry tells him something about his sister, then he moves on to an argument he had with his neighbor, and something else about a dazing model that is dead.  
  
Or an amazing novel he's just read, he's not sure.  
  
"Louis." Harry calls, his tone scolding. "Are you listening to me?"  
  
Louis straightens up in his chair, he lifts his eyes up to meet Harry's gaze.  
  
"Of course I am." he chirps. "Yes." he insists, nervously tapping his chopstick against his plate.  
  
Harry looks at him for a few more seconds, then he reaches for the remote, he turns off the Tv.  
  
Louis' looking down again, inspecting his Chinese dumpling, cutting it and looking inside, before pushing it aside.  
  
"Louis." Harry repeats, his tone still annoyed.  
  
Louis feels it washing over him, and his stomach twists once more, before he drops the chopsticks onto the table and pushes his plate away.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes." he immediately shoots back, reluctant to say the least, when he bites on a prawn cracker.  
  
His vision gets a little blurry, the geometric pattern of his napkin playing tricks on his eyes.  
  
"Louis."  
  
Louis sighs, he forces himself to lift his head up.  
  
Harry's gotten very serious, maybe even irritated.  
  
He looks away for a second, and he clears his throat, he sips on his beer, before looking at Louis again.  
  
"Why did you disappear?"  
  
Louis tilts his head, confused.  
  
"I haven't seen you in a week." Harry adds. "Have you noticed?" he asks him. "At all?"  
  
Louis frowns at him, his mind slowly putting the pieces together.  
  
"I've been studying." he replies, slumping back against his chair. "I told you."  
  
Harry lifts his elbows onto the table, he joins his hands and presses them to his mouth, contemplating him.  
  
Louis squirms in his seat a little.  
  
"What have you been studying?" Harry asks him.  
  
Louis blinks at him, and his mind is still slower than all of this, his body is starting to catch up just now.  
  
His heart is racing.  
  
"What?" he asks. "Spanish." he quickly decides. "Literature."  
  
Harry's munching on his finger now. He only does that when he's getting nervous.  
  
"Spanish literature." Louis mumbles, looking down at his lap.  
  
His hands are shaking.  
  
He feels so tired, he's not sure he should have gotten up at all.  
  
"Listen." Harry tells him, diving a hand through his curls to get them out of his face.  
  
Just that has Louis breathing faster.  
  
"I need you to stop this." Harry says, his voice calm. "I really need you to talk to me."  
  
Louis folds his arms over his chest, an inappropriate laugh pouring out of him.  
  
"About what?"  
  
Harry doesn't even smile at him, he doesn't even consider dropping it.  
  
Louis knew it was just a matter of time.  
  
"Why are you sitting like that?" Harry insists.  
  
Louis shrugs.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like you're in pain." Harry retorts, his jaw clenched.  
  
Louis shoots him a fed up look, his heart still pounding in his chest, his hands still trembling.  
  
"I'm fine." he grits out.  
  
"You're hurt." Harry contradicts him, pushing the rest of his food aside. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid."  
  
Louis laughs again, outraged this time, and he'd love to get out of this situation, but he feels glued to his chair.  
  
"What the fuck are you even-"  
  
"I saw it, Lou." Harry interrupts him.  
  
He drags a hand over his face, his eyes shutting for the moment it takes him to breathe in. "You're covered in bruises."  
  
The air between them gets heavy and cold.  
  
Louis glares at him, and he doesn't even know how to react at first, his mouth just falls open and nothing comes out.  
  
Harry waits for him, his gaze unwavering.  
  
"You-" Louis chokes out. "You checked on me while I was asleep?" he hisses.  
  
Harry sighs, he nervously lifts a hand up before Louis can say anything else.  
  
"No." he states. "I didn't touch you, Louis. Your shirt was-"  
  
"No, yeah, it was like that when you got here." Louis grits out, his fists clenching, nails digging into the palms of his hands.  
  
"Don't do that." Harry admonishes him. "Don't try to change the topic."  
  
Louis reaches for his glass, but it's empty, and he's shaking so hard he can't even pour water into it.  
  
Harry leans forward and takes the bottle from his hand, he waits for Louis to drink, and muster the courage to look back at him.  
  
"You're not supposed to get hurt, Louis." He tells him, at that point.  
  
Louis doesn't know what to say.  
  
He's just trying to focus on his breathing, but there's so much adrenaline pushing through his system than he can barely keep himself from throwing his glass against the wall.  
  
Harry takes advantage of his silence to keep talking.  
  
He looks frustrated, restrained, but his voice still sounds controlled.  
  
"A little bruise is normal occurrence, I get it." he says. "Maybe a bite mark, that's pretty common."  
  
He looks at his face, and all of a sudden his frustration turns into sadness.  
  
"You look like someone fucking assaulted you, Louis." he says, his voice finally cracking. "There's something wrong, here."  
  
Louis can't wipe the bitter smile that's twisting his lips, not even when Harry reaches out and offers him his hand.  
  
Louis ignores it, keeping his eyes stuck on Harry's face while his anger starts forming sentences in his head.  
  
"There must be something wrong with me, right?"  
  
Harry's face goes blank for a moment, and he struggles to come up with something to say, until "No, that's not what I meant." he blurts out.  
  
Louis' smile opens up, turning into a silent growl.  
  
"What makes you so much better than me, Harry?" he asks, gripping the edge of the table, trying to keep himself grounded.  
  
His head is spinning, flooding with rage.  
  
"Just because your entire range consists of boring fucks, you think you can tell me what I do is wrong?"  
  
Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, he shakes his head at him.  
  
Louis' nerves flare up in response, even worse than before.  
  
"I enjoy what I do." he grits out. "If you have a problem with it, don't blame it on me."  
  
Harry's head snaps up, his gaze suddenly hot, burning, stinging on Louis' skin.  
  
"You really expect me to believe you, Louis?"  
  
"I don't care if you do." Louis laughs.  
  
Harry doesn't.  
  
He doesn't look away.  
  
He doesn't let go.  
  
"You enjoy it?" he asks him.  
  
Something in the way he says it, Louis' not sure what it is, makes his chest tighten.  
  
"Is that why you get depressed, every time you come home after shooting a scene?"  
  
Louis' eyes go wide, a lump closes up his throat and keeps him from fighting, defending himself.  
  
"Is that why you haven't been able to open a book in months?"  
  
"Oh, shut the fuck up." Louis barks, slamming his fist against the table.  
  
Harry withdraws, pressing his back to his chair, but he doesn't look remotely close to ending this.  
  
"You're really gonna judge me for that?" Louis spits out, furious. "In case you forgot, you have a philosophy degree, Harry." he laughs, cruel and mocking. "And you do porn. Just like me."  
  
Harry presses a fist to his own mouth, he paces himself, digging his teeth into it to let some tension out.  
  
Then he breathes in, and Louis suddenly realizes he's not going to win this.  
  
He's just not.  
  
He can try to scream and claw his way out of it, but he'll be licking his wounds for a long time after.  
  
"And have you forgotten why I do that?" Harry keeps going, relentless. "Have you ever tried to understand what gets me so invested in those boring fucks? Maybe if you tried to pay attention when I talk to you, you'd know by now."  
  
Louis' heart clenches, at the hurtful shit Harry's coming up with, all of a sudden, at how tiny and insignificant he's feeling, under his careful stare.  
  
"I don't give a fuck what you do." He yells, his voice breaking. "And I don't want you to give a fuck about what I do. I never asked you for anything."  
  
Harry sucks in a breath, he lowers his head for a moment, uselessly trying to contain the situation before it slips further out of control.  
  
"Calm down." he whispers, avoiding Louis' incensed gaze. "Let's try to talk about it calmly, baby."  
  
Louis' choking on too much anger and humiliation, to calm down.  
  
"I am not your baby." he laughs, infuriated. "Or your boyfriend. Or your fucking anything, for that matter. I said stay out of it, I've told you a thousand times."  
  
He's yelling at him, loud enough his neighbors must be having a blast listening to this, and he couldn't care less.  
  
He's livid, he can't believe this is actually happening, can't believe Harry thinks he has a right to talk to him this way.  
  
"You're angry." Harry sighs, glancing up at him. "And you're not listening to me. We're not getting anywhere, Louis. You need to-"  
  
"You need to get the fuck out." Louis spells out, through gritted teeth.  
  
Harry' eyes go wide, shocked, and his first instinct is to get up from his chair and leave.  
  
But then he looks back at Louis' face, he changes his mind.  
  
"We need to talk about this." he states. "It's getting out of hand, Lou."  
  
"I'm fine." Louis hisses. "Stop telling me how I feel."  
  
"You're spiraling." Harry replies, his voice still calm, definitely worried.  
  
It makes Louis even angrier.  
  
"You're putting up with things that you don't want." Harry clarifies, just in case Louis was thinking he could catch a fucking break. "You're not taking care of yourself." he keeps pushing. "I'm pretty sure you're developing an eating disorder."  
  
Louis sticks his tongue in his cheek, disbelieving laughter still bubbling up his chest.  
  
"I'm doing great." he tells him, lowering his voice, breathing so hard he almost chokes. "I'm making good money." he continues. "And I'm not gonna do it forever, anyway. I know what I'm doing."  
  
Harry's sharp inhale has him going quiet again.  
  
"Okay." He says. "Fine."  
  
Louis breathes out, a shaky, fragmented breath, before realizing this isn't over yet.  
  
"Tell me about the last scene you shot."  
  
He looks back into Harry's eyes, suddenly hating all of the qualities that made him fall in love with him.  
  
His stubborness, his intelligence, his patience, his caring nature.  
  
They're all working against him, ripping him to pieces until he yields and looks at them, at what's left of him.  
  
At what he's done to himself.  
  
"If you wanna know just fucking watch it." Louis shoots back. "I'm not gonna waste time telling you."  
  
Harry lets out a frustrated little laugh, then he dives his hand into his pocket, he slides his phone across the table.  
  
"Let's." he says.  
  
Louis looks down at it, he hides his hands back under the table, gripping his knees to give himself a sense of stability.  
  
But everything's crumbling down.  
  
"I don't want to." he whispers.  
  
He starts scratching at a small wound on the back of his hand, until it splits back open and a drop of blood spills out, then he forces himself to stay still, resting both hands in his lap.  
  
Everything goes quiet for a while, and Louis really needs that.  
  
He needs to calm down and breathe and get his nerves back under control, he needs his heart to stop beating so fast, and he needs the world to stop spinning, he needs this to stop, to never have happened.  
  
He needs Harry to love him.  
  
He sees his own tears falling onto his hands and he tries, he bites hard on his bottom lip and he holds his breath, he tries to make himself angry again, or just numb.  
  
Anything but this.  
  
"Lou." Harry whispers, his voice strained and hurt. "Don't cry. Baby, don't cry. We're gonna solve this."  
  
Louis manages to keep the sounds in, but the tears keep filling his eyes and pouring out, no matter how hard he wants to stop them.  
  
Harry gets up, he slowly makes his way to him, quiet and careful.  
  
Louis feels him standing beside him, then crouching down.  
  
When he presses his hand to the back of his neck, Louis ends up sobbing.  
  
"Don't touch me." he begs him, unable to move an inch.  
  
"Let me hold you." Harry asks him instead, drying his tears as they keep spilling out.  
  
Louis wants him to stay away from him, he can't stand him being so close.  
  
He's suffocating, his heart convulsing against his ribcage, and he's falling into a fucking hole, he's being eaten alive, he can't fucking breathe.  
  
"Don't touch me." he hisses, his chest heaving desperately.  
  
Harry withdraws his hand, suddenly aware of how anxious Louis' getting.  
  
"Okay." he whispers, keeping his distance this time. "I won't touch you."  
  
Louis goes quiet again, his throat working as he tries to breathe and swallow his tears and speak, and Harry's voice sounds far away, even though he's right there beside him.  
  
"It's okay." he's telling him. "That's enough." he's whispering. "It's alright, baby. No more fighting."  
  
Louis nods, maybe grateful, maybe just too tired to utter one more word.  
  
"Do you wanna lie down?" Harry asks him, his tone careful, but still a bit broken.  
  
"Yes." Louis manages to blurt out, losing one more breath. "By myself."  
  
"Okay." Harry immediately assures. "Can I stay?" he whispers next. "I'll be here, in the living room."  
  
Louis' pulling on his shirt, mouth open and caught in a battle against his own lungs.  
  
Harry keeps quiet, and he doesn't touch him.  
  
He waits, until Louis starts breathing again, even if not too well.  
  
"I'll come if you call for me." Harry proposes. "Only if you call for me. I promise."  
  
Louis takes a shaky breath, he sniffles, but his eyes are closed now, to focus on calming himself.  
  
It takes a bit longer, but he starts coming back to his senses, although still confused.  
  
"Okay." he murmurs.  
  
Then he gets up, his legs weak, his whole body sick of him.  
  
He slowly walks past Harry, and he drags himself to bed.

He doesn't fall asleep.  
  
He doesn't think about anything, either.  
  
He just stays in bed, weak and drained, unable to move.  
  
The anger and the humiliation are still weighing down on him, heavy and inescapable, burning viciously in his chest.  
  
There's still that feeling that something's wrong, badly coded into his DNA, and he can't do anything to change it.  
  
He's just flawed, he's always been.  
  
He somehow always makes the wrong choices, over and over, without even trying.  
  
That shame is always inside of him, no matter where he goes.  
  
The awareness that there's something twisted, in his heart or his brain, maybe both, and it keeps hurting him, it hurts anyone who comes near him.  
  
Harry is getting caught up in it and Louis doesn't know how to get him out.  
  
He's never known how.  
  
He doesn't remember getting up, or leaving his room.  
  
But he's standing in the hallway now, and he's looking at Harry.  
  
He's not sleeping, either.  
  
He's sitting on the couch, a hand absently stroking his forehead, like he's trying to get the bad thoughts out, get rid of them.  
  
He notices him after a minute, and he looks like he wants to get up, but keeps himself there instead.  
  
Louis should just tell him to go.  
  
He should set him free, get him out of his mess before he gets stuck, gets too hurt to keep loving him.  
  
Instead, he just looks him in the eyes, fighting the urge to cry again.  
  
"Come to bed?" he asks him.  
  
Harry doesn't seem to think twice about that.  
  
He just follows Louis into the bedroom, gets into bed with him, curls up around him and holds him close.

Harry's eating his pancakes, pretending he's enjoying them, but Louis can see the sheer pain on his face.  
  
He smiles at him, or at least he tries.  
  
Harry looks tense, but he's so clearly making an effort to appear calm.  
  
Louis hates having this effect on him.  
  
He doesn't want Harry to count to ten, before he tells him anything.  
  
And he doesn't want him to eat his pancakes, if they taste like plastic.  
  
"I got carried away, last night." Louis tells him at some point.  
  
This needs to happen.  
  
Louis' still standing, leaning against the counter, and that seems to make it easier to speak.  
  
If Harry was closer to him, he's pretty confident his emotions would get the best of him.  
  
He has this feeling that if Harry even lays a finger on him, he's going to cry.  
  
"Said a few things I didn't really mean." Louis continues, waiting for Harry to look back at him.  
  
His eyes look puffy and tired.  
  
"It's okay, Lou."  
  
His voice sounds strained.  
  
Louis' sitting in his lap before he can think twice about it.  
  
He doesn't know where this conversation is going to take them.  
  
There's a good chance they're over, and Harry's just looking for a way to break it to him.  
  
Louis' going to touch him, while he still can.  
  
When he throws an arm around his shoulders, Harry finally gives up on that pathetic excuse of a breakfast.  
  
He circles him with both arms, holds him up.  
  
Louis sighs of relief.  
  
"I need some time to think about the things you told me." he says, and Harry's hold immediately tightens a little.  
  
Louis strokes a finger over his cheek, reassuring.  
  
"You might be right."  
  
Harry's breathing stutters.  
  
His eyes go wider, but he keeps quiet, maybe afraid Louis could take that back.  
  
Louis' tracing his nose now, then his mouth, a finger lingering over Harry's lips.  
  
He can feel himself losing him.  
  
But not for the reasons Harry might think.  
  
"I've been avoiding those things for a while." Louis admits.  
  
Harry nods, his lips pursing against the tip of Louis' finger.  
  
Louis kisses him, automatically, and Harry's holding him even closer.  
  
Maybe he can feel it, too.  
  
Louis keeps touching him, a hand brushing his hair back, tucking it behind his ear.  
  
But Harry's nervous, his gaze charged.  
  
Louis' scared of what he might say.  
  
"Take some time, then." is what he says.  
  
Louis' heart clenches, starts beating faster, scared.  
  
He tries to get up, but Harry keeps him close, he grabs his chin and looks into his eyes.  
  
"Are you going to break up with me?" he asks him.  
  
Louis' mouth falls open, words stuck tight in his throat.  
  
Does he even have an answer to that?  
  
"I want to be with you." Harry tells him next, pulling him closer to his own face. "Don't push me away."  
  
Louis would explain it to him, if he knew how.  
  
He'd tell Harry how badly he wants to keep him.  
  
He's just not sure he deserves him.  
  
Harry could have so much more, he could have anything.  
  
Louis can't give him much.  
  
He can't even talk to him, can't get a single word out.  
  
He can't even tell him he loves him.  
  
Harry deserves much more than this.  
  
When their lips touch again, Louis squeezes his eyes shut, because he doesn't want to cry.  
  
They're kissing like they're scared of not having a chance to do it anymore.

They don't see each other for a whole week.  
  
When they speak on the phone Harry always reminds him.  
  
He tells him about his day, asks Louis what he's had to eat, asks him for a movie suggestion, then mocks him for his awful taste.  
  
They speak to each other because they can't help it.  
  
Louis needs to hear his voice before he goes to bed and Harry never skips a day.  
  
He always sounds calm, confident, so clearly determined to keep him close.  
  
He reminds him every night, before they go to bed.

_I want to be with you  
  
I love you  
  
You make me so happy_  


He tells him the things Louis needs to hear, desperate to keep him near.  
  
And Louis really wants to believe him, wants to convince himself he can be enough.  
  
He doesn't tell him what he's thinking, though.  
  
He doesn't tell him that Nick called to offer him a job.  
  
Or that he accepted.

Luke gets a lot of offers, because people love his work.  
  
Louis' not happy to see him, when he gets there.  
  
He still remembers what he did to him the last time.  
  
He knows why Luke's videos get so many views.  
  
It's 'cause he's mean, he's ruthless and vicious, and people seem to love watching that.  
  
It's just his job, though, Louis doesn't need to love it.

When Harry kisses him, Louis' heart always skips a beat.  
  
He gets warm and excited, he wants to get lost in Harry's mouth until he remembers to breathe.

When Luke kisses him, Louis' heart immediately picks up the pace.  
  
He gets anxious and stiff, he opens his mouth and lets him lick into it, but he's really just waiting for it to be over.  
  
He doesn't like the way he tastes, how dirty he makes him feel.

Harry's hands are gentle on him, when he starts exploring his skin.  
  
They're looking for more, always for more, but they move softly over Louis' skin, slow and patient, until Louis can't take it anymore.  
  
Harry wants him naked, because he loves his body.  
  
He wants to touch it and kiss it, wants to show how much he adores him.  
  
He wants to feel Louis' body under his hands, his mouth, and open it up, so they can lock together and become one, feel good for each other.  
  
Through each other.  
  
_With_ each other.

Luke's hands are rough on him, they are careless and impatient, eager to get him naked.  
  
Luke wants to look at him in a way that makes Louis feel small, vulnerable, weak enough to let him do whatever he wants.  
  
Luke wants to throw him around and get him frustrated, nervous and out of breath, until Louis' too tired to fight him back.  
  
Because Luke sees him as a thing, a tool for his pleasure.  
  
He only cares about pushing into him and feeling good, through Louis' body.  
  
For himself.

Harry looks at him, when he fucks him.  
  
He listens to the sounds Louis makes, to find his rhythm.  
  
He kisses him and he keeps his hands on him. He connects with him, until he has his trust.  
  
That way he can give him pleasure, relief.

Luke puts him on all fours, because Louis' face is only relevant if he's fucking his mouth.  
  
He doesn't care about the sounds Louis makes, maybe he likes it when Louis sounds pained. It makes him thrust harder into him, like he wants to wreck him.

When Harry's inside of him Louis forgets about everything else.  
  
His whole body wants him, it opens up and it makes space, it breathes, it comes to life.

Louis' body twists and clenches under Luke's weight, it tries to push him out, get away.  
  
Louis tries to breathe and let him in, but Luke doesn't wait for him, he just doesn't care.  
  
He hates him and he loves hurting him.  
  
He wants to make him scream and push through it, let him take whatever he wants and play his part.  
  
Louis' just an object.  
  
He's there to be looked at and touched.  
  
His purpose is being used and worn out and abused and bent and broken.

When it's over, Louis wants to forget he even has a body.  
  
His body is just a thing he's been using to go through life.  
  
He's been letting other people use it, but he's only just started to realize that.  
  
They've hurt it and humiliated it, and they've taken it away from him.  
  
They made him hate it to the point of not seeing it as something that belongs to him anymore.

When Harry makes love to him, Louis can feel his own blood pumping through his veins.  
  
He can feel his skin warming up under Harry's touch, healing.  
  
He can feel his heart thumping hard, his lungs working, the pleasure shooting up his spine.  
  
In those moments Louis really exists.  
  
He belongs inside the shell, he fits.

He's tried to put a wall between his body and himself, but Harry cracked it, and he took it apart, brick by brick, and he crushed it.  
  
He's been trying to put it back up, but Harry puts his hands on him and he tears it down.  
  
Louis' hated his body.  
  
He exploited it and he starved it and he gave it away.  
  
He punished it for all the hate other people inflicted upon it.  
  
Now he just wants to mend it.  
  
He wants to look after it.  
  
He wants to take it back.

When Harry walks into Louis' house, the fear gripping his guts only gets worse.  
  
He sounded strange on the phone when he asked him to come over.  
  
Harry finds him on the couch, his legs drawn up, his chin tucked between his knees, quiet.  
  
Harry breathes in carefully.  
  
Louis knows he's there, but he doesn't move.  
  
Harry kneels in front of him. His hands are delicate when they wrap around Louis' ankles, to pull his legs down, get closer to him.  
  
Louis lets him.  
  
Harry runs his fingers over Louis' arms, he grabs his hands, kisses them.  
  
He waits.  
  
When Louis finally looks into his eyes, his heart twists in his chest, both relieved and terrified.  
  
"I quit." Louis tells him.  
  
Harry just looks at him, holds on to Louis' hands and waits until he's ready to go on.  
  
His eyes have never looked so big, painfully beautiful and more than a little lost.  
  
"I didn't even finish the scene." Louis tells him, his voice down to a tired whisper. "I just left."  
  
Harry closes his eyes, lips pressed to Louis' cold hands, he nods.  
  
"I don't wanna do it anymore." Louis says, and Harry presses him to himself, lets Louis hide in the crook of his neck and just breathe, for a while.  
  
Louis holds him, but his arms feel weak around Harry's neck.  
  
He's so small, so tired.  
  
Harry lifts him up, he holds him tight while he carries him into the bedroom.  
  
He makes sure Louis can feel him.  
  
They lie together and Harry keeps him in his arms, warm and safe.  
  
His body feels tiny and fragile. Hurt and curled up and starving for affection.  
  
Harry runs his hands up and down his side, his fingers through his hair.  
  
He makes sure Louis knows he's not going anywhere.  
  
He tells him he loves him and he lets him cry.

He spends the following two weeks in Doncaster.  
  
His mother treats him like a child, she cooks for him and she washes his clothes and she fixes his hair while Louis' watching Tv.  
  
She tells him to focus on university as soon as he goes back, but she's secretely hoping he's just going to stay.  
  
His sisters are fun to be around, for the first three days.  
  
They fight over his attention and they don't let him lift a finger, and Louis starts to wonder how long it's going to last.  
  
Three days, that's how long.  
  
After that, Lottie shushes him whenever he tries to speak, because - _hello?_ \- she's on the phone.  
  
Fizzy asks him for advice, then looks at him like he's too old to get high school drama, why the hell does she even bother.  
  
The twins are growing up, they promptly drop his hand when they run into a friend in public and act like they don't even know him.  
  
His father stayed the same, though.  
  
He still covers him with a blanket, when Louis dozes off on the couch.  
  
He always takes his mother's side, when the children plan a mutiny.  
  
Louis sits at the table and he steals the roasted potatoes off his father's plate, he changes the channel to get Phoebe to scream, he plays football with Stan, he hides his phone to keep Daisy from snooping.  
  
He does all the things that remind him of who he was, before he got a little lost.  
  
Until one night he goes to bed and he doesn't cry at all.  
  
The resentment he felt towards himself has just left.  
  
He tried to treat himself like someone who's decent, worthy of respect, despite his imperfections.  
  
He ate, and he played, and he laughed and he rested.  
  
He made an effort to love himself for the first time in God knows how long and that's all it took, to let go of his self-inflicted pain.  
  
He just needed to give it a try.

When Harry gets out of his car, Louis' fully aware of the fact that his whole family is watching him, all gathered on the doorstep.  
  
He knows that.  
  
He also knows he's kind of a grown up now, and public displays of affection can make people uncomfortable, especially the people who changed your diapers and saw you move your first steps.  
  
Louis knows these things, he really does.  
  
They just don't seem to be enough to stop him, when he pushes past the small crowd and makes a run for him, jumping up into his arms and peppering his face with excited little kisses.  
  
Harry's laughter sounds too sweet for Louis to stop, not before his cheeks are flushed and hot, and he's nervously trying to shake Louis off of himself.  
  
Louis just couldn't help it.  
  
He's missed him so fucking much and he can't wait for Harry to take him back to London, and he's been craving his presence for days, he had to kiss him, _he had to_.  
  
His mother smacks him softly on the back of his neck, when he runs back into the house, but that's the extent of his punishment.  
  
He's lucky his parents absolutely love Harry.  
  
Of course they do. Who wouldn't love him?

Louis' new house is tiny.  
  
Harry keeps saying it's nice, but Louis knows he's lying his ass off.  
  
"Shut up." he snaps, pulling Harry into his bedroom. "It's old and it's ugly and I hate it."  
  
"You have your own bathroom." Harry argues, letting Louis push him to the edge of his bed, forcing him to sit down. "And just two roommates." he insists, circling Louis' hips with his arms.  
  
Louis levels him with a fed up look, but Harry doesn't desist.  
  
"That's not bad." he shrugs. "And the rent is pretty good, too."  
  
"Shut up." Louis hisses, giving his bottom lip a threatening little bite.  
  
Harry does shut up, but his cheeks are puffed up, his dimples are showing.  
  
Louis tilts his head, waits for him to cut the bullshit.  
  
"Okay, it's not that great." Harry laughs.  
  
Louis spreads his arms open, because _thank you_ , he knows that.  
  
It's on the fifth floor, not conveniently located in zone four, and the nearest Tesco is-  
  
Not near.  
  
But hey, Louis' fine with that.  
  
He can work with that.  
  
It's a start.

His bed was already shitty when Louis moved in, four months ago.  
  
But Harry's making it worse.  
  
He fucks him deep and good into the mattress every time he comes over, the springs creaking under them, playing the questionable soundtrack to their sex life.  
  
Harry's got his knot stuck in him, when he tries it again.  
  
"You clearly proved you can handle it." he says, as Louis' eyes are already rolling back.  
  
He's heard this before.  
  
"All of it." Harry continues. "University and your job and living on your own."  
  
Then he stops, a smile stretching his lips when Louis twists his neck to bite on his arm.  
  
"If you moved in with me," he's saying, pinning Louis' wrists down to keep him from sticking his fingers between his ribs. "We could see each other more often."  
  
Louis scoffs, but he purses his lips when Harry leans in to kiss him.  
  
"You'd be closer to your university." Harry reminds him, like he's done at least a dozen times before. "It would take you twenty minutes to get to work."  
  
That one is the one that stings the most.  
  
Louis hates getting up early.  
  
"You'd get one more hour of sleep." Harry presses. "Every night."  
  
Louis snorts again, but Harry can see right through him.  
  
He pulls out of him at that point, rolling heavily to the other side of the bed.  
  
Louis' climbing on top of him the next moment.  
  
He's warm and relaxed, his eyes sparkling, when he looks down at him.  
  
He's tempted.  
  
"No." he grits out, grabbing Harry's face with both hands. "I love you." he laughs, pecking his lips. "But no."  
  
Harry sighs, his lips pressed together to keep himself from insisting.  
  
Louis lets Harry pull him into his chest, but he looks suspicious, very aware of the fact this isn't over.  
  
Harry reassures him with a couple kisses, just a gentle press over Louis' mouth, an attempt to distract him.  
  
Louis laughs, nervous, especially when Harry keeps quiet.  
  
He looks back into his eyes, reaches up to stick a finger in his dimple and "No." he repeats.  
  
Harry's smile doesn't fade.  
  
He shrugs, and Louis' this close to strangling him.  
  
"No." he says, and Harry's pinning him down, squishing him under his body again. "No, Harry." he laughs, squirming around to escape his mouth. "I said no." he squeaks, when Harry nuzzles into his neck.  
  
Louis should stop laughing if he honestly wanted Harry to take him seriously.  
  
But he can't keep a straight face, not when Harry's biting on his shoulder, kissing the tip on his nose, looking at him this way.  
  
Louis frowns at him.  
  
The things Harry wants from him feel scary, sometimes.  
  
Louis might be brave enough to want them too.  
  
"Maybe." he whispers.  
  
Harry's eyebrows shoot up.  
  
"Maybe?" he questions, like he's not entirely sure he heard that right. "Really?"  
  
Louis pulls him in.  
  
"Maybe." he confirms, before kissing him.  
  
Harry knows him.  
  
He knows Louis likes to play hard to get, sometimes.  
  
He knows how he takes his tea, that he hates avocados just because they're trendy, that he's terrified of spiders and he pretends to despise astrology, but reads his horoscope every morning.  
  
Harry knows Louis loves him.  
  
And he knows that his _maybe_ , just a second ago, truly means _yes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I'd really appreciate it if you took a moment to let me know what you think of this story <3**
> 
> **And please help me spread the word by reblogging[THIS](https://johnnymignotta.tumblr.com/post/618288249417449472/lollipop-by-speechless-x-rating-explicit-tags) **
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